


Lost, yet found.

by LenaLawlipop



Category: Guardians of Time - Marianne Curley
Genre: F/M, Family, Family Dynamics, Family History, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24540742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenaLawlipop/pseuds/LenaLawlipop
Summary: 'His eyes, what the hell...?'Lorian has to suppress a laugh. Yeah. Of course his own son would think that upon first meeting him.
Relationships: Arkarian & Lorian, Arkarian/Isabel Becket, Lorian & Lady Arabella
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	1. - APPRENTICE -

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the original draft of this story back in November, and holy shit, it was like 18k maybe? And I was so happy with it… AND NOW IT’S ALMOST 3OK AND I’M SO MUCH HAPPIER!!!!
> 
> I don’t think I’ve ever written a multichapter for this fandom before, random stuff I wrote as a child notwithstanding, not that they’re online to begin with. I’m _so_ proud of this story, so happy to have written it too. I’ve been wanting to share this since December, back when I thought I was finished, but I knew it needed a lot of edits. Four passes of edits later, here I am, bringing you my baby story. I’ve gotten to know Lorian SO MUCH BETTER, and honestly? I feel like I got this VIP chance to discover his relationship with Arkarian throughout this story, and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did while writing and editing it.
> 
> I’m aware this fandom is super dead, and I didn’t need to go this hard, but I did! I did, and I’m really happy, and I’m gonna stop rambling and let you read it. 
> 
> I sincerely hope you enjoy it, and if you did, let me know what you liked best in the comments! <3
> 
> Love,
> 
> ~Lena

# Chapter 1 - Apprentice

_'His eyes, what the hell...?'_

Lorian has to suppress a laugh. Yeah. Of course his own son would think that upon first meeting him. The rest of the Tribunal doesn't bother hiding their amusement, however, and the scrawny kid before them retreats a little further into himself. He’s sitting on a stool in the middle of the circular room, wearing loose clothes. His shirt, made of simple white cotton, is too thin for the kind of weather they’re having, and it’s so stretched that it sits a little too low on his shoulders. His trousers on the other hand, are too short for his legs, evidencing his latest growth spurt. His hair is short, curly on the tips and falling just above his eyes in blond locks that look clean, despite the boy’s current living conditions, if a little disheveled. Lorian stands up then, but his own height doesn't cross the boy's mind as he gets closer. Just the eyes.

"What's your name?" Lorian asks to start the proceedings. The boy recoils even more at that, and Lorian frowns when he reads his thoughts. "Well?" he presses, hoping that he's reading wrong somehow. 

"I was told my name a long time ago," the boy reluctantly explains. "But since nobody uses it, I..." he shrugs, playing with the hems of his sleeves. His hands are tanned and strong, but as they grip the fabric, he looks _extremely_ uncomfortable, his gaze jumping from face to face, examining the room as if he’d never seen an amphitheater before.

Lorian freezes as he probes the minds of the Tribunal members for any clue as to why this is new information to him. The gallery is empty today, he’d wanted to keep Arkarian’s initiation private so as to not scare him, so only the Tribunal can offer an explanation. Among them, most have realized what has happened, a few pity the boy. Lord Penbarin seems concerned, Lord Alexandon looks torn between laughter and tears. Lady Arabella is hardly concealing her dismay… He realizes that time passes differently for mortals, but... As he dives further into their thoughts, looking for answers, no one around him seems to know what to think, or what to say. Soon it's clear to him that nobody knew either. He turns his attention back to the shivering kid in front of him, and isn't able to suppress a sigh in time. Lorian looks him in the eye, and impressively, he doesn't seem as skittish as he would have expected him to. It makes him smile, despite the circumstances, but he’s sure his gaze conveys how he really feels about this.

"Your name is Arkarian," he tells him, and Arkarian’s clear blue eyes light up in vague recollection.

"Yes, that sounds... that sounds about right. It's been ages since I heard it! Thanks, uh..."

"You may call me Lorian, and most people refer to me as a ‘he’," Lorian tells him, to which he receives a slow nod.

"Lorian," the boy, Arkarian, tries the name. Then he smiles. "That's... just as weird as mine. Our parents probably thought them up together, huh?" he jokes, not once looking away from the Immortal's eyes.

Lorian doesn't bother to hide his laughter this time. Behind him, the Tribunal members smile so warmly he can feel their love for the boy like waves upon his skin. With a single sentence, Arkarian has managed to win them all over, just like he did all those years back, the only time they’d met before, when he was but a baby. Lorian goes back to his own seat, and when he smiles, it reaches his eyes.

"It's an honour to have you with us today, Arkarian. I understand Lady Arabella has already explained to you the basics of the Guard?"

"Yes, sir," Arkarian nods.

"Then, should you like to stay with us, I shall be your Instructor," he continues, and Arkarian nods again, enthusiastically. Lorian smiles a little wider. "Then let us commence with the Initiation ceremony."

It’s been a long time since his emotions last threatened to bubble to the surface like this, he thinks as he watches his son receive his gifts, filled with a rather distinct kind of pride. The ceremony goes on without a hitch, however, and he soon finds himself showing Arkarian around, and properly explaining to him what his life will be like from now on. His eighteenth birthday is coming up, he thinks to himself. Arkarian won’t notice anything different, but he explains his gift nonetheless, so the boy realizes the importance of the change in lifestyle he’ll undertake. If he feels a hint of bittersweet regret when he reads Arkarian’s thoughts about his previous life and how much he’s looking forward to being a part of the Guard, Lorian would never admit it out loud.

He can’t afford to be partial to anyone to that extent. He’ll have to be careful.

# #

Arkarian progresses quickly with his first skill, Lorian finds. He grows increasingly frustrated, too, at being unable to read Lorian's thoughts. Even though he keeps that to himself, it amuses Lorian to no end, of course.

Arkarian arrived in Athens for his Initiation scrawny, and almost shy. He was terribly polite, and Lorian had been able to immediately see the effects of almost 18 years of a servant life in him. After living at the Citadel for a few weeks, and then a few months, however, he has become more outspoken. He is witty, and funny, and loves a good challenge. He is curious in the way only a Truthseer could be, always asking the underlying questions behind every sentence.

As noted by many, he is also unnaturally immune to Lorian's aura. Or, almost immune. He certainly can feel it, but he seems to tolerate it better than most, unafraid to look into his eyes when they speak. If Lorian’s temper flares, Arkarian will invariably look away, but whether or not this is due to Arkarian being used to a life of servitude, of heeding orders without questioning, or simply out of fear of his powers, Lorian isn’t sure yet. This apparent immunity of his isn't in any way surprising to the Immortal, obviously, despite what everyone else seems to think. Even the Tribunal, who by all accounts should know better, have made remarks on it. Arkarian has spent the last fifteen minutes thinking about an off-hand comment of Lady Arabella, and it's starting to be annoying, considering they're in the middle of training. Lorian coughs, delicately, and Arkarian jolts upright in his seat, his thoughts abruptly changing direction, trying to recall what he was doing.

They're comfortably sitting on soft cushions in one of Lorian's chambers in Athens. It is warm in the room, despite the weather outside being rather atrocious. Arkarian shuffles around in his seat, however, rearranging the white tunic he’s wearing and fiddling with the white belt around his waist. It fits his frame, Lorian thinks, much better than the clothes he used to wear. It makes him look taller than he used to, buried under overly big shirts, and his shoulders have become broader upon training for the past few months.

"I'm sorry," Arkarian says then, returning Lorian's attention to him. The Immortal raises an eyebrow, and Arkarian rushes to explain himself. "I'm distracted today. It won't happen again."

Arkarian has a strict work ethic, and since the very beginning he has taken to his training with an enthusiasm Lorian hasn't seen in years. While that’s good, the way he phrases it bothers him sometimes.

"It is allowed to have bad days, Arkarian. Besides, meditation is a fickle thing, definitely isn't an exact science."

"An exact...?"

"An exact science. You know, like mathematics," Lorian hesitates. Is he confusing mortal idioms again? Arkarian chuckles, however, and nods.

"Ah. I was never taught much mathematics, I'm afraid. But I imagine it's nothing like this... Master Pierre knew mathematics, you know? He was always in meetings with his friends, talking about their studies. He always said I wouldn't understand it, but the way he understood the numbers in his mind let me learn the basics. It was about as far as I got before I came here."

"You experimented with your skill by learning mathematics?"

"Yes... Is—is that bad?" Arkarian frowns, and Lorian shakes his head.

"No. I would have assumed something simpler would be much easier to grab from someone else's mind, however. Sentences, feelings..."

"Those are very easy to read," Arkarian nods. "I've been reading emotions in other people's minds for way longer. I used it to avoid my previous master, before I arrived at Master Pierre's house. He always had a terrible temper, it alerted me of his presence. I used to think I was hearing his voice, or his footsteps, however, and I didn't realize it was... this," he finishes, hesitantly waving around his own head.

"I see."

"People don't always think about complicated things," Arkarian adds, eyes looking distant for a moment, deep in thought. "Most often is... well," his cheeks color slightly. "Most often is sex, and food, and then social activities. Conversations, or chores... Master Pierre often thought of books, though. He was very well read."

"What about here?"

"Here, in Athens?" Arkarian tilts his head. "Mostly the same. It's a little difficult to listen properly to people who think in a different language, however. I understand it when I'm listening, but it would be difficult to recall it in my own mind."

"Fascinating," Lorian mused. The thought had never crossed his mind, as he could speak all languages if he so desired. "Has it helped you acquire the language in any respect?"

"Oh, I wouldn't think... well, I haven't really..."

"You don't have to learn it if you don't want to," Lorian appeases him. "I would have thought you would, that's all. You do spend your free time here, no?"

"I do," Arkarian mumbles, sheepishly. "I try to stick around other Guard members, though, I don’t want to bother the locals."

"Understandable. Take your time to be comfortable with Athens, Arkarian. You have no shortage of that," Lorian smiles at him, and he beams back.

"I truly can't thank you enough for your gift, Lorian..." he begins, for what feels like the umpteenth time, and Lorian dismisses it with a hand gesture. "No, no, really," Arkarian insists. "You, everyone here, have done more for me than... well, anyone ever has," he says, affectionately. There is no malice, no bitterness behind it, but the words cut through Lorian with the bluntness of an unexpected knife. "I never had a family, but I'm finally starting to think the Guard could become one for me."

Arkarian is looking at him when Lorian turns to watch him. He's grateful, and warm, and Lorian doesn't need to read his mind to feel the emotions coming off of him at the thought of the Guard. When he does read his thoughts, however, he wishes he hadn't.

_‘If only mother and father had been Immortal too, and shared this with me…’_

# #

It takes Lorian a few days to notice, and it is Lord Penbarin who brings it to his attention in the end.

"Young Arkarian is progressing marvelously," he says, off-handedly, with a pleased smile. Lorian smiles as well.

"I know he's frustrated with himself, despite how well he's doing with his Truthseer ability," he confides. "He can't wait to develop his second ability."

"And then he will want a third," Lady Devine points out, with a giggle. Lord Meridian rolls his eyes at her antics, but no one seems to disagree. "An overachiever, he is, that boy of yours."

"He has the audacity to shield his mind from us, too!" Lord Penbarin laughs, a thunderous sound that makes Lorian frown, after he hears his words.

"He has?"

"You didn't notice? He's been shielding his thoughts for a week now!" Lord Penbarin continues. He's eating grapes, and Lorian waits for him to finish his mouthful. "Maybe he isn't able to shield his thoughts from you, Lorian? Or maybe he doesn't want to."

"Arkarian is very respectful," Lady Arabella agrees. "I'm sure he wouldn't want to hide things from his father."

"Arkarian doesn't know about that," Lady Elenna reminds her, and Lady Arabella nods, conciliatory.

"No, but he doesn’t need to. He's a very bright boy, he has questions," she replies, knowingly. "Anyone who spends any amount of time with the Guard would. Our Lord isn't known for spending time with the apprentices, much less as an Instructor himself."

"Has he said anything to you, Milady?" Lorian asks her, and she shakes her head.

"No, but I can sense he is curious about you. About your past, about your reasons to train him, about many things. He's been becoming more and more perceptive during the year that he has been with us, of course."

"Of course."

The conversation dies, briefly, before Lady Arabella starts telling him about how Arkarian has been reading with her lately, ever since he finally learned how to read, and how he is a delightful conversationalist. Very down to Earth, she appraises, and Lorian simply smiles. His mind is elsewhere.

That evening, when he meets Arkarian for a walk through Athens, he makes sure to pay extra attention to his thoughts.

They're not shielded, he notes, but Arkarian is almost always aware of them, almost subconsciously, as if he's _allowing_ Lorian to read him. He decides to bring up the topic.

"It's been brought to my attention," he starts, avoiding the people in the street with the ease of someone who has been walking among them for centuries, unseen, "that you have become quite adept at shielding your thoughts from other Truthseers, Arkarian." The boy flushes.

"Oh. Yes, rather..." he fusses with the belt of his tunic. It’s already a light shade of blue, despite Arkarian not having been on any missions yet. "I have been practicing. You taught me how to do it, but we didn't revisit the concept, and I thought..."

"You can't hide thoughts from an Immortal, under normal circumstances," Lorian says, which makes Arkarian frown.

"At all?"

"I haven't met anyone before who could," Lorian amends, and that seems to appease Arkarian somewhat. "But you're welcome to try, if you'd like. You generally wouldn’t be able to hide thoughts from the Tribunal members, but I have been told you have already mastered that. Have you been training with anyone else?" he finds himself asking, after a second. Arkarian doesn't call him out on it, but he smirks to himself, and he's aware that he sounds a little possessive. "Your abilities haven’t shown their full potential,” he tries to explain himself. “The other members of the Tribunal won’t be able to help you with them the way I can.”

"I haven't," Arkarian answers, conciliatory. His thoughts have definitely become quieter, and it bothers Lorian for some reason. He keeps pace with Arkarian, who also treads the crowd expertly, looking over some stands of fruit. He's buying groceries, Lorian realizes, and for once is unsure what to say about it. He doesn't _need_ to eat, although he does, but he's not in charge of his own _groceries_. "I've practiced alone, but Lady Arabella has mentioned I was doing nicely, that's all."

"I see."

"I told you she taught me how to read months ago, and we've been reading together," Arkarian adds, as if trying to change the subject, and Lorian lets him. She had mentioned the same thing, but he doesn't mind hearing it twice.

Arkarian is talking about their last reading meeting, and how grateful he is to have the ability to read books now. How much he wants to read, and how she is a great teacher, and has always treated him almost like a son. It's endearing, and yet it makes Lorian's blood freeze in his veins when Arkarian's thoughts are very purposefully shielded at the mention of her motherly traits.

Lorian tries again, but he is left to gape at Arkarian, who simply tries his best to hide a smirk with poorly concealed pride. His blond curls help only slightly to hide the blush on his cheeks, and that, at least, Lorian can interpret. Arkarian is clearly pleased with himself. Lorian turns around, hastily poking into the minds of passersby. They’re going on normally about their day, wondering what fruit is best, and why the prices never seem to go down at all. A fight is about to break out a few stand away, and Arkarian perhaps hears it as well, because he takes the opposite direction, greeting a vendor candidly and asking for a mina of grapes. Lorian tries to read him again, expecting to hear thoughts about which grapes he wants, or how to charm the vendor into adding a bit extra. 

But Lorian can't hear his thoughts. At all.

# #

After that, Arkarian masters his ability to shield his mind in a matter of weeks, and becomes quite agitated when his second one doesn't seem to be in a rush to manifest. He can't see the effects of his agelessness skill, for obvious reasons. He’s just as young and lithe as usual, and the only changes he can see are in his physical abilities, and how much better he gets the more he trains. He’s strong, muscles and body shape rather well defined for an eighteen year old, which Lorian knows he appreciates. His curly hair, however, and his bright eyes, make him look exactly his age, and people notice. This annoys him, and he tells Lorian as much, both vocally and through disperse thoughts whenever they're together. It amuses the Immortal, really.

"What are a few weeks, Arkarian? You have eternity ahead," he reminds him after an evening in which they've done little else than talk about a recipe Arkarian has learned recently from the locals, and spar now and then.

"Well, a few weeks are a few weeks," he insists, impatiently. His demeanor changes at the abrupt change of topic, but he knows what Lorian is talking about. It's been in his mind for a while now, and he's been letting him read his thoughts, after all. "I've done so well with my Truthseer ability, too!"

He’s not wrong. After realizing he could shield his thoughts from Lorian and the rest of the Tribunal, he’d experimented with it for weeks, until the novelty had settled. Nowadays, he rarely shielded his thoughts from them, however. He said it was more difficult than with other Truthseers, which Lorian could accept. Arkarian doesn’t bother putting up a shield when he’s with Lorian, which is what matters to him, honestly. For whatever reason, it has always bothered him that Arkarian would want to keep secrets from him. He’s never wanted to overanalyze it, and he doesn’t mean to start now. Instead, he takes a deep breath, and focuses on reassuring Arkarian before he can keep complaining.

"There's no rush, though, really," Lorian reasons. "You're putting too much pressure on yourself. It won't come like this."

"Well, but it has to, eventually, right? Everyone has two, you said!"

"Everyone has at least two," he specifies. Arkarian nods emphatically, running a hand through his hair.

"Well, I'm missing at least one, then!" he adds, after Lorian doesn’t continue. He can’t help but frown, tilting his head, but Arkarian doesn’t look away this time. He wants an answer.

"It’ll come when it has to. In the meantime, I'm sure there are other things you can work on, Arkarian."

Arkarian obviously doesn't think so, but he also doesn't say it out loud.

"I think I understand most of the gifts I've been given by the Tribunal," he says instead, something Lorian has also read in his thoughts as of late. "But I don't think I can use them either."

"That's not surprising. Some of them will require years of training, too."

"Well, that's the thing..." he pointedly looks away, thoughts unruly. "I've talked to other Guard members... Most apprentices don't remain as such for 'years'. Maybe a couple years, but hardly longer than that. I've already been your apprentice for well over a year and my second ability hasn't manifested, nor can I fully use all of my gifts."

"There are also Guard members who have been apprentices for 'years', Arkarian. You can't possibly know all of them. Besides, your abilities will not be the same as theirs. Truthseeing is very common, of course, but that doesn't mean your second one will be. And your gifts, on the other hand, are incredibly rare," Lorian explains. Arkarian is still not convinced, though.

"Some of them are so _cryptic_ ," he complains, making Lorian laugh. "They are!"

"Arkarian, since the very moment you were conceived, these gifts were carefully thought for you, with the knowledge that you would have as many years as necessary ahead of you to hone them, perfect them and wield them to your heart's content. Do not think for a second that the Tribunal made a mistake with them, nor with you. You are a Named, Arkarian, never forget that."

"A Named..."

Arkarian doesn't say more than that, but Lorian knows him well enough by now to know that something is troubling him. His thoughts are open, and Lorian realizes immediately what he’s thinking. Still, he waits, hoping he will bring it up himself and eventually, when he's ready, he does.

"Your gift was extremely generous, but also very straightforward," he says. Lorian nods. "Why?"

"It's not the same kind of gift as the rest that the Tribunal has bestowed upon you. Mine is simply that, a gift. It is now part of you, and works naturally, without any help from you."

"What about the rest, then?"

"Well, which ones do you recall?"

 _'All of them,'_ Arkarian thinks, with a mental eyeroll that tells Lorian he's been overthinking it again. He laughs, and Arkarian colors slightly, in embarrassment. "Sorry."

"No, no. That's good. Why don't we go over them together? I can't tell you what they mean, but I might be able to help you deduce it."

"I don't see why they have to be a mystery. Other Guard members had it very easy."

"You have so much more time than them to figure them out, though."

"See, the thing is, one of my gifts is supposed to be the gift of Patience, right?" Arkarian crosses his arms. "Well, I don't feel all that gifted at that, to be frank."

"Maybe that's why they gave it to you," Lorian says amusedly. Arkarian doesn't take the bait.

"And then another was supposed to be the gift of Compassion. And those are also very straightforward, apparently, except I have no idea what they mean!"

He's _clearly_ frustrated.

Lorian thinks for a second on how to best help him, but it's clear that it's a second too long, because Arkarian huffs, dropping his arms and turning around to walk away. Lorian stops him, and pulls him closer into his side. Arkarian stumbles slightly, but follows obediently, holding onto the arm that Lorian has draped around his shoulder.

"Sometimes, our best characteristics, our gifts you could say, only become apparent in truly important situations. Being gifted with Patience and Compassion doesn't necessarily mean that they will be innate to you, and that you will always be able to use them, sadly. Human nature is very volatile, and there are many emotions that cloud your judgement. It will always be difficult to decide how to feel about a situation, especially one that concerns yourself, but like anything else in your life, it will become easier the more you practice it."

"Then why is it a gift?" Arkarian asks, but more curious than annoyed this time.

"It's a gift because not every person has it equally easy or hard to exercise any given trait. You simply have an advantage when it comes to those, and I'm sure they were intended to work as a long term gift, considering your lifespan will be longer than most other mortals."

“I can see why Patience would be long-term,” he says, chuckling a little. “But what about, say, Recollection?” 

“Wouldn’t you say that’s related to having a good memory?”

“Then, what about Touch?”

“Hm… what was the wording for that gift?” Lorian says, testing him. Arkarian doesn’t disappoint.

“May you be able to Touch the minds and bodies of those around you,” he recites, grimacing. “It sounds very creepy out of context, too.”

“Right,” Lorian laughs. “But I’m sure Meridian meant Touch as in being able to leave your mark, not necessarily a literal touch.”

“Not… necessarily,” Arkarian repeats, quietly, and Lorian smiles. That’ll be a good hint, for now.

“What about the rest?” he says.

“Well, There’s Patience, Compassion, Recollection, Touch,” he starts with the ones he’s just mentioned, and takes a deep breath before continuing. “Then there’s, er… Wisdom,” he starts, raising a finger.

“And the ability to share it,” Lorian reminds him. Arkarian nods. 

“Then there’s Direction,” he hums to himself. “I guess I’m okay at not getting lost?” he ventures, and Lorian chuckles, rolling his eyes. Arkarian smiles at himself. “Yeah, I guess it can’t be that easy.”

“It could be,” Lorian appeases him, but he doesn’t think so, and Arkarian doesn’t take his word for it either, not this time.

“Unlikely. A Tribunal member being literal? Not on your watch!” 

Don’t let it be said that Lorian can’t laugh at himself. He does, mostly just surprised at the direct jab. Arkarian smiles some more, and Lorian guesses it’s worth it.

“What else?” he prompts.

“Affinity to all things alive, and Youth of Spirit,” he says. Lorian nods. He remembers them as well. “Youth of Spirit I sort of… understand. I mean, I wouldn’t want to become a really grumpy old dude that looks eighteen,” he shrugs. 

“So, are these really all that cryptic?”

“They are!” he complains. “I can’t work on any of them!” 

“Says you,” Lorian tilts his head. “Wouldn’t you say that most of them are a continuous task? You won’t wake up one day being Patient and Compassionate. You have to work for you to Touch other people’s lives. Having an affinity to things alive can come in handy if you actually interact with things that are alive,” he adds, arching an eyebrow. Arkarian frowns.

"Then are all of those... more long-term than immediate?" he asks, ignoring Lorian’s last words. Won’t be the first time, nor the last time, that he encourages Arkarian to befriend more people, especially other Guardians. Lorian shrugs.

"You could say that."

"Alright," Arkarian accepts, if not easily, at least without putting up a fight. "Then I'll have to find something else to practice _now_."

# #

The Tribunal room is covered in wood chips. Lorian sweeps them away with a hand gesture, and Arkarian looks up in surprise, feeling the breeze that pushes his hair away from his face. He's been growing it out lately, and it falls to his shoulders now, a little curly on the tips, but rather more straight than it used to be. It reminds Lorian of Charlotte, and he's struck with a wave of nostalgia that distracts him. It's been a long time since he thought about her. He smiles at Arkarian, stepping closer to him, and the boy smiles back, a gesture that looks so much like his own that even the Tribunal members had noticed.

"What are you doing?" he asks, trying to ignore his wandering thoughts. It's in moments like these when he wishes he had never decided to keep it a secret from Arkarian. He’d tried to keep his distance, at first, but he’s quickly realized it’s a null effort. Instead, he reminds himself that he can't risk Arkarian being targeted just because of their family bonds, and he pushes all those thoughts away for now.

"I'm decorating my stools a little. Look," Arkarian points at one of the stools around himself. The Tribunal sits on rather elaborate thrones, so these are not from the circle. Still, Arkarian finds himself comfortable in this room, and Lorian has never quite figured out why.

"Are these yours?"

"Yes. I didn't want to work at my house, it was too quiet. Queen Brystianne and Lady Elenna just left, but they were with me until recently. We've been discussing some of the recent changes in the trading policies in Athens," he adds, and Lorian is quietly impressed.

"How did you find the conversation?" he asks.

"Enlightening," Arkarian admits. "There is much I still don't know about the world."

"You are learning so much so quickly," Lorian praises anyway.

"And there's so much more I will learn in time," Arkarian adds, to his amusement. "Do you need the room? I will leave, I was just carving these for fun."

"No, no, that's quite alright. I was looking for you."

"Do you need me for something? I thought we were meeting for training tomorrow morning," Arkarian frowns, and he starts going over his schedule in his mind, but Lorian shakes his head with a smile.

"I believe it's time for you to go on a mission, and I was coming to brief you on it."

Arkarian doesn't seem to process the words at first, but then a wave of emotions runs through his features. Excitement, but also confusion, and uncertainty, until it settles on something akin to… embarrassment? He turns his eyes away from Lorian before he can make sure, and his thoughts quieten. Lorian looks deeper, but all he manages to read is a deep sense of shame.

"Lorian, are you sure? My second ability hasn't manifested yet, and I'm sure there are many other Truthseers that..."

"Oh, I'm sure. This mission will be fine for you. We don't expect it to be particularly difficult, and you won't go alone, so it should do nicely for you to practice other aspects of your training."

"Such as?"

"Well, physical battle for sure, but also how to act while in the past. Learning to conduct yourself through a mission without risking being discovered, and mixing in with the people you find is something that also takes time to learn. So, what do you say? We don’t have many missions as of late, but it’s always good to be prepared."

"I... If you think it's a good idea, then I will go, of course."

"You don't sound too convinced," Lorian notes.

"Just nervous."

This isn't a lie, not exactly, but Lorian isn't as obtuse as some seem to think. He waits, and Arkarian eventually looks up from the piece of wood he's working on. He sighs.

"I just wish I could go on a mission and be a real help, you know? Not just the newbie that comes along to watch others. I've probably been an apprentice for twice as long as whoever goes with me has been a Guard member."

"That would be pushing it a little..."

"It's been ten years!"

Arkarian's voice echoes in the empty room, and he lowers his head in embarrassment. His hair covers his face as he goes back to carving. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to raise my voice," he whispers, and Lorian sighs.

"I'm sorry, Arkarian," he places a hand on his shoulder, and while Arkarian doesn't look up, he leans his head over Lorian's knuckles enough for the tips of his hair to touch his hand.

"It's fine. I know I'm a slow student. Maybe I don't have a second ability and that's it. It's not that big of a deal, I just wish I could be more useful. It feels like I'm sitting around doing nothing, wasting your time. Why meet up for training? There's nothing more I can do," he says, his voice not above a strangled whisper. Lorian is about to crouch to his level, but Arkarian stands up abruptly, turning away to hide his face. Lorian wonders if he's crying, or if he's simply mad at him but doesn't want a confrontation.

"You will never be a waste of my time, Arkarian," he tells him, and when Arkarian's shoulders shake with a shuddering laugh, his previous question is easily answered.

"Of course I am. I appreciate the sentiment, but let’s not kid ourselves. You’re far too busy to train someone for ten years, a simple Truthseer at that.”

“Who I decide to train is not for you to question,” Lorian starts, but it’s the wrong thing to say. Arkarian huffs, interrupting him, and he falls silent, surprised at the small insolence. Not that Arkarian never interrupts him, but generally it’s not to question his decisions.

“Yes. You know better than us. Well, that’s alright by me. No one will tell you to your face that your student is a failure, after all, and they know better than to think about it around you. They sure as hell won’t bother you.”

This hits Lorian harder than Arkarian meant it to. He had not considered that people might be rude to Arkarian because of who his Instructor is. He takes a tentative step toward him, but Arkarian shakes his head, some of the wood pieces that had been stuck to his tunic falling down. Lorian watches a particularly pointy one fall between the white fabric and the pale blue belt. He wonders if Arkarian is thinking about symbolism at all, considering his thoughts are firmly shielded, but the boy doesn’t seem to have noticed it. 

“Well, anyway. What about that mission? Who am I going with? And to where?" he asks seconds later, when Lorian fails to provide an answer.

He doesn't push the subject. Not then, at least. With a deep breath, he takes on the responsibility of briefing his son about his first mission, equally thrilled and anxious. He wonders if he would feel the same were they not related, but ultimately it doesn't matter. Arkarian's eyes are already dry when he next looks up at him, and they're shining with excitement by the time he leaves the circle, promising to go to sleep early, already enthusiastic about having something to do. Lorian watches him go, his tiny curls swishing against the back of his neck, and resigns himself to forcing the feelings inside him to evaporate. Arkarian is more relaxed now, thinking about his mission, and about how grateful he really is to have Lorian despite what other Guardians might say. It makes Lorian feel warm, and wanted, and he can’t risk that.

He really, really can't risk that.

# #

 _'Lorian. Lorian! When are you finished? You_ have _to see this, you HAVE to!!'_

The thoughts are just loud enough for everyone to hear, but not loud enough that they seem like Arkarian is fully projecting them, and they blend in with the thoughts from the rest of the people in the room. He has _one_ ability, Lorian thinks with a hint of irony, but damn if he isn't the best at it. Still, Arkarian had truly become very patient in the last few years, and so it's strange for him to be so excited over something all of a sudden.

The rest of his thoughts are concealed enough that Lorian can't figure out what's happening. If he adjourns the Tribunal meeting a little quicker than usual, well, no one is blaming him. Instead, they all usher him out of the room as soon as they're done, and he walks quickly to meet Arkarian in the public seats area. The boy is so excited he's practically vibrating on his seat. There's a small pot of dirt next to him, curiously enough, and Lorian simply arches his eyebrows.

"Well?" he asks. Arkarian can't help his own grin anymore, and he all but jumps from the stool he's sitting in.

"Lorian," he breathes, and it's endearing, it really is. He might be... what, probably around thirty by now? Yet he's never quite lost the enthusiasm of an eighteen year old boy. Fitting. "Lorian, _look,_ " he insists, and grabs the pot.

The pot is odd, but Arkarian’s new belt probably should have clued him in to what was going to happen, really. It’s a rather dark shade of blue, deep, and calm, and nothing like Arkarian’s current mood. It has been so long that Lorian has almost stopped wondering about Arkarian's missing ability, assuming it would come whenever he was ready. Arkarian obviously hasn't.

The dirt in the pot starts to move around minutely until eventually what is happening becomes clear. A tiny green stem emerges from it, and slowly, ever so slowly, it starts to grow into a perfect parsley plant. Arkarian is beaming by then, offering the pot proudly to Lorian, who takes it without thinking much about it. It's perfect, it smells divine, and he finds himself speechless for a moment.

"Well?" Arkarian prods after Lorian finishes examining the little plant. "Isn't it beautiful? I can make plants grow!"

His enthusiasm is contagious, and Lorian pulls him closer into a hug.

"It is!" he replies, and Arkarian laughs, hugging him back. "This is incredible, Arkarian. I knew it would come to you eventually. When did you find out?"

"This morning! I was," Arkarian laughs a little embarrassedly, and points at the pot. "I was almost out of parsley and wanted to try my hand at growing some, so I decided to get seeds at the market. I heard growing parsley from stems isn’t the easiest way to grow them, and I was thinking about how long it would take them to grow, and then… this! I was looking forward to having a new project, but, you know, I'll take it," he laughs some more, and Lorian can’t help but grin through his explanation.

"This is fantastic. Fantastic! We'll explore this in your training from now on, of course. Elemental magic is _so_ rare, no wonders it took you a long time to find it."

If his words hurt Arkarian or not, Lorian doesn't get to think about it until later, because he's examining the plant again, carefully. He tilts it, touches it, but the plant is perfect in all accounts. He even goes as far as tasting it, which makes Arkarian laugh, but it's just... it's just the most perfect, unassuming parsley plant. He could have found this at the market, and he wouldn't have looked at it twice. Instead, this is Arkarian's first bit of elemental magic, and suddenly Lorian wants to keep this parsley forever. He smiles, a little sadly at the thought. Plants can be very longevous but... not forever, he doesn't think.

"What do you mean by elemental magic?" Arkarian asks after a few minutes of silence. Lorian looks up.

"Why, I mean you can control the elements, of course. Earth," he points at the parsley, "should be just the first. I would think it odd if you couldn't eventually control the rest as well."

"What, like, anything?"

"Technically, though I will let you know right now that it could take years, or even decades," Lorian is quick to warn. Arkarian rolls his eyes.

"What a surprise. Well, we better get started, then!"

"Whatever happened to Patience?" Lorian jokes, but he leads the way out of the room and towards the training facilities. Arkarian shakes his head.

"I did my waiting, didn't I? I will soon be forty, I think it's about damn time," he mutters the last part, but Lorian hears it anyway, and does a quick calculation.

"That would be next year, no? Time flies..." Arkarian shoots him a glance that tells him time hasn't flown as quickly for _him_ , but Lorian is used to those.

"Not that I'm entirely sure of when my birthday is, but I've always celebrated it around June, you know, middle of the year..."

"Oh, it's in May," Lorian finds himself saying before he can help himself. It startles Arkarian, obviously, and Lorian resigns himself to saying the entire sentence. "May 31st, to be more precise."

"How...?"

"We follow Guard members closely, often since birth. You were destined to be a Named, on top of that, so we always knew about you. You were born on May 31st 1385."

Arkarian takes a moment to digest this information, then sighs and shrugs.

"Well, then next May I will be forty," he says, uncertain. "You could have told me this earlier, you know?" he finally reproaches Lorian, and he sighs.

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't always realize..."

"I could have asked, I suppose," Arkarian waves it away. "You do know everything, I don't know why this would be any different."

Lorian doesn't _know_ everything. He knows more than most other people, but there are things even he doesn't know. But he doesn't correct Arkarian. There are many things he knows that Arkarian really shouldn't know, no less of all the true nature of their relationship, and delving deeper into this conversation only makes it easier for the boy to ask questions. Lorian has never been good at keeping things from Arkarian, and if he wants this one to stay secret, he must put that bit of distance now.

"So, about elemental magic," Arkarian says all of a sudden.

"Hm?"

"Who else has it?"

"It is very rare," Lorian tries to think. "I think the last time we initiated an elemental user, you hadn't been born yet. It's an incredibly useful ability in battle, but it's also extremely rare."

"Wow. Really? I can't be the only one..."

"Well, the only one in your region, at least. You could ask the heads of the other Houses, and see what they have there, but I'm fairly sure they would have mentioned it."

"And this other, what did you call him..."

"Elemental user."

"Is he still alive?"

"It was a woman… She should be, but she's been retired for years," Lorian tried to think back. "Actually, I don't know if she should be. Mortals tend to die around...?"

"Ugh, never mind," Arkarian shook his head. "Just give me her name and I'll take care of finding her. You're so blunt, you would probably hurt everyone's feelings."

Lorian doesn't argue with that. It's not like he's known for talking to Guard members, anyway. He tells Arkarian, and watches as he carves the name with a small knife on the side of the parsley's pot. Lorian doesn't question it, but Arkarian chuckles anyway.

"I think it's an appropriate name for this little one, don't you think?"

Lorian smiles against his better judgement, ruffling Arkarian's hair. He’d kept it just long enough to tie it back, but today he’s wearing it down, and it falls on his eyes when Lorian lets him go.

"You're like a kid with a new toy. Let's put that new ability to use before you go around trying on your own and accidentally hurt someone," he tells him. Arkarian huffs, but doesn't argue, and they both leave towards the training grounds.

It's a beautiful day outside, and there's plenty of nature for Arkarian to play around with.

# #

Arkarian, unsurprisingly, doesn't waste any time in getting acquainted with his new ability. He seems to want to do it all, and all at the same time. He hasn’t been this excited in years.

Lorian has been observing him for days now, watching him build and take apart literal soil structures, chairs, cabinets, tables... He's currently attempting to piece together a house, his most ambitious project so far, when Lady Arabella approaches them in the training grounds. Lorian beckons her to come closer, but gestures so she doesn't project her thoughts to Arkarian.

"Lovely day for a stroll, Milady. Of course, not as lovely as you," he murmurs, and her cheeks tint slightly.

"You old charmer," she accuses him. "And your boy obviously takes after you. I hear from some of the girls of my House that he's quite the heartthrob."

"Not the kind for meditation, is he..." Lorian sighs. This has been a point of contention between them for as long as they had been training together. While Arkarian had once been more inclined to the carnal pleasures than he was now, he still didn’t exactly shy away from them either, despite Lorian's advice. "He doesn't tell me much about that, and I'm afraid it's my own fault."

"You should know better than to tell a young healthy boy not to explore all aspects of human relationships," she agrees, and extends a blanket she's brought with her to sit beside him under a tree. They aren't touching, but she is close enough for him to feel her power, the coolness of her skin, and he appreciates it. Not many people get close to him.

"I should," he repeats.

"He's not one for settling down with a nice lady either, I hear," she continues, realizing without the need for words that try as he may, Lorian is really not able to completely distance himself from Arkarian's wellbeing. He closes his eyes as he listens to her. "I think he is choosing to be optimistic about it for now, but I'm not sure how well he really is taking things. I know he's had offers for way more than a few shared nights, from very decent ladies too, that he has had to turn down."

"Of course."

"And I imagine he hasn't mentioned this to you?"

"No, not at all. He used to, when he was a lot younger, but... I don't think we understood each other then, and he hasn't brought it up since."

"Does he know that you...?"

"He knows I'm sexless," Lorian nods. "I think that's part of why he won't tell me about it, I imagine he doesn't think me capable of understanding."

"But you are," she insinuates, and he throws her a small smirk.

"Milady, you of all people should know," he says, arching an eyebrow, a hint of shared intimacy in his eyes. She blushes, and looks away pointedly.

He doesn’t often mention the past. Lady Arabella had been the first to join his Guard, back when he was still finding the right people to form the Tribunal. Back then, things between them had been different. Lorian still hadn’t taken the decision not to have a defined sex, and the Guard hadn’t been big enough to warrant the caution he has to take now against his sister’s own army. Things between him and Arabella had been very different indeed.

"Have you noticed how much he looks like you?" she says, changing the topic. Lorian looks back at Arkarian, amusement still present in his face. He isn’t exactly sure what he’s meant to answer. The boy is tall compared to other eighteen-year-olds, but he isn’t nearly as tall as Lorian. His eyes are a calm, bright blue, and his hair is an aristocratic kind of blond, though not quite as light as it used to be. He reminds Lorian so much of her that if there really is something to show their kinship, he can’t pinpoint it.

"Some have mentioned it," he settles for, but Lady Arabella is nothing if not perceptive.

"You're right. He looks more like Charlotte, when he wears his hair down, doesn't he? It's something about the curls, how they frame his face," she smiles. "She was a very pretty woman. Do you miss her?"

"Often," Lorian admits. "But not in the way a mortal would. I miss seeing her, and I miss what Arkarian could have had if she had stayed there for him. I miss the concept of her, and how simple life felt during the short time I had with her. My life and my responsibilities are an honor, but they're also a heavy burden, especially having to carry it on my own."

"You sound lonely, My Lord," she murmurs, understandingly, and Lorian sighs, closing his eyes.

"Perhaps. Spending time with Arkarian reminds me of the things a mortal life has to offer, that are simply not an option for me. I know I'm not alone, but I also know I can't put others in danger."

"I've told you many times how silly that idea is," she reproaches him, gently, but doesn't push it. "In any case. Arkarian seems happy, for now."

It all comes back to that, doesn't it? Lorian sighs once more, and nods.

"That's all that matters to me," he whispers under his breath. Lady Arabella clutches a hand to her chest, and he's aware that she's looking at him with pity, but he doesn't know how to alleviate her sadness. He turns to look at her, and she has some tears in her eyes. "Please don't cry for me, Milady. You know I can't return the favor."

"Oh, don't say that, My Lord," she says, repproachingly, with a charming gesture as she wipes her eyes. "I know that. I am not a young lass anymore, after all."

They both observe Arkarian continue his training. They both smile when he finishes the house, and they both wince when he attempts to start adding windows and the structure collapses. Lorian stops the piles and piles of dirt from falling on Arkarian, but it's Lady Arabella who runs up to him to make sure he's uninjured.

Arkarian simply laughs and smiles at them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed my story :D
> 
> If you did, please consider leaving kudos or a comment, they're greatly appreciated!
> 
> If you’d like to create related content based on my fic, please visit my profile for my blanket permission statement!
> 
> If you want to yell with me and share more headcanons for these dorks, you can find me at my tumblr, [kyokotsukuyomi](http://kyokotsukuyomi.tumblr.com/), the comments section down below, or any of the links in my profile. Don't be shy!
> 
> Love,
> 
> ~Lena


	2. - INSTRUCTOR -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve seen countless initiations, Arkarian.”
> 
> “I know. I’m just… Well, it’s the first time I’ll be the Instructor. Generally I just watch from the side.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the shortest chapter, but the next one is the longest, to make up for it. Or because that's how I thought it fit the story best, fite me (?)
> 
> ~Lena

# Chapter 2 - Instructor

"If you keep staring at that, you'll hurt yourself, and the ability to heal is also extremely rare in the Guard, Arkarian."

Arkarian snorts, and looks up from his glass of water. Lorian arches his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation, but he doesn't provide one, instead fussing with his tunic, rearranging it and the dark blue belt he now wears. Lorian swears it’s yet another shade darker than it was since he last saw him.

"Welcome back, Lorian," he says instead, gently, running his fingers through his dark blond hair. It’s a little tangled, so he wrestles it into a bun at his nape. "You've been gone for very long, this time. We have gained a healer since you last checked."

Lorian knows this to be patently false, and he allows himself to roll his eyes. He would have heard about it from Marduke, if that was the case. The woman carrying the books he'd been perusing for the past few days gasps at the show of familiarity, but neither of them pay attention to her.

"How was the reading?" Arkarian asks, without waiting for Lorian to react to his tease.

"How was the staring?" Lorian throws back. Arkarian cackles.

"Hey," he complains. "At least one of us managed to do something productive."

"Yes, and that would be me," Lorian crosses his arms, amusedly. "I thought you would have been training, and I must admit, I'm quite confused."

"Well, I am!" Arkarian defends himself. "I've been training earlier with Lord Meridian’s army, and on my own, with my abilities. And now I'm training too, believe it or not. I want to continue developing my ability, and I'm trying to focus on water manipulation."

"Water, huh..."

"Well, I read on a few books that it's supposed to be one of the easiest elements to control. Then again, there are very few accounts of this kind of ability. Ekaterina was gracious enough to give me some advice, but..."

"How is she, then?" Lorian asks, curiously. "I haven't seen her in an age," he adds. There had been a time when Arkarian would constantly visit her, Lorian remembered it well. He never disliked the woman, but there had been… tensions. At the time. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about Arkarian having other Instructors aside from him.

"Wh—of course you haven't," Arkarian frowns. "She passed away at least two decades ago, if not more... Didn't I tell you? She and I spent a long time documenting her knowledge before she passed, she was very excited to finally find someone with her ability, and wanted me to know a lot of things. She was particularly well versed in fire manipulation."

"Oh," Lorian frowns, memories halting. He shakes his head. "No, I don't quite recall. A pity. She was a fearless warrior, that one."

"She was. I have nothing but respect for her."

"I didn't know you two had gotten so close, Arkarian," Lorian insinuates, and it is Arkarian's turn to shake his head.

"Ekaterina was lonely in her last few years," he explains, picking up the glass of water and drinking from it. "I used to go by her place everyday to help her around the house, as she was then rather weak. She used her ability to get by, it was very curious to look at. I admired her, I admit, but she was many years my senior, and not just going by my physical aspect," he adds. "She reached an extremely respectable age of 84, she did."

"Interesting. So she took you under her wing while you wrestled your ability," he murmurs, trying not to sound too disapproving. Arkarian either doesn’t notice, or decides not to call him out on it. They’ve argued enough about her already.

"You could put it like that. She often said your technique was very powerful, but that it had no delicacy to it," Arkarian remembers fondly. He laughs. "She didn't mince her words."

"Older people rarely do," Lorian notes. "They feel as though they've held their tongues for long enough. I think they're tired."

"I think so too," Arkarian nods. "Do you think I will be like that?"

"I don't think so. Look at the Tribunal members, for example."

"They could afford not to mince their words, though, if they wanted to," Arkarian points out with a chuckle. “It’s not like many people will disagree with them.”

Lorian agrees, tilting his head. He doesn’t think Arkarian will become a grumbling old man, but sometimes the thought occurs to him that he might be lonely. Arkarian doesn’t mention it, however, and his memories of Ekaterina seem to lift his mood somewhat, so Lorian doesn’t push the subject. Better to steer away from the topic of Instructors. 

"In any case, what are you doing staring at the water?"

"I wanted to try and move it," Arkarian admits, defeatedly. "Make the glass tumble or something like it. I’ve spent the last two decades learning and mastering my current power, but if you’re right, I should be able to manipulate all elements, not just living things."

"Hmm... Well, you do have an affinity for all things alive,” Lorian points out, to which Arkarian concedes with a gracious nod. “Why don't you try with an easier motion? Maybe try making it swirl, or try creating small waves inside a bowl?" he suggests after another moment, refilling the glass with a flick of his wrist. Arkarian, entirely unsurprised by the display of magic, simply shrugs.

"It's one way to look at it," he says as he turns around in his stool to focus on the glass once more.

They stay like that for a long time, so long that Lorian eventually dismisses the woman with the books. Even so, Arkarian doesn't manage to make the glass stumble, nor make the water swirl, nor make waves. But Lorian doesn't hold it against him. It's right around the time when he's preparing himself to try and pry Arkarian away from the glass that he sees the little bubbles on the surface, after all.

"Is that...?" Arkarian seems as surprised as Lorian himself is. The Immortal touches the glass delicately, and withdraws his hand quickly.

"Maybe you're focusing on the wrong element, my boy," he tells him. "What do you say we try with some fire first?"

"But Ekaterina said that..." he starts, and Lorian can’t mask his displeasure in time. Arkarian frowns, but he’s noticed him rolling his eyes already.

"Pray tell, what did she say?" he asks eventually. With a sigh, Arkarian continues.

"She said fire was the one ability that she found most difficult. Most rewarding, but most difficult. Said it took her years to finally have it under control."

"Hmm..." Lorian gives it some thought, but eventually simply shrugs. "I don't see why that has to apply to every elemental user, however. You are your own person, and I'm sure you have different strong points than her. She was very good at fire, but who's to tell you that you won't be even better?"

"I mean, just on the basis of how long I will have to hone my skills..." Arkarian shrugs, noncommittally. "Anyway, yes, you might be right. Do you really think I should practice with fire?"

"Try with candles first," Lorian advises. "Like I said, we're short on healers, and it will hurt like hell if you burn yourself to death."

"Encouraging," Arkarian drawls, rolling his eyes once more.

"In any case," Lorian continues, ignoring him. He drinks the water this time. It's no longer boiling, it's not even warm anymore, a testament to how slippery Arkarian's control over his powers is for now. "You should get some rest for tonight. Maybe try to turn off your bedside candle without help, but don't overexert yourself. We've been here for a few hours, Arkarian."

He doesn't seem to have noticed, and startles at the reminder. The light outside of the windows has dimmed considerably, and they're surrounded by the warm light of wax candles. Lorian had lighted them at least an hour ago, but Arkarian had been too focused to notice, most likely.

Lorian leaves the room first, but he waits for Arkarian outside. He can tell he's a little too stunned to hold a proper conversation, and more than a little tired. Summoning the amount of concentration needed to manifest an ability is nothing to scoff at, and while it didn't always work, this time it had, and Arkarian must be tired.

They walk in silence towards Arkarian's own place, not far away from the main building. He’d taken to sleeping in Lorian’s wing of the palace, but slightly separate, with his own little house, separate from the main chambers. It’s cozy, Lorian supposes. Arkarian does spend days on end here, rather than his place at the Citadel, so it’s not entirely a bad idea. He produces a silver key and opens the door. Lorian returns the now empty glass at him, wondering what he will say, but he isn't expecting Arkarian to hug him.

Arkarian simply hugs him in silence, though. Perhaps he's still too astonished for words, perhaps he's overcome with emotion. Lorian doesn't mind either way. He returns the gesture, and squashes the part of his mind that wonders how nice it would be to let Arkarian finally know...

Arkarian has his plate full already, however. Now is not the time, and thus Lorian stays quiet.

He holds his son.

# #

“You’ve seen countless initiations, Arkarian,” Lorian says, patiently. In truth, he’s doing his best to hide an amused smile. Arkarian sighs.

“I know. I’m just… Well, it’s the first time I’ll be the Instructor. Generally I just watch from the side.”

“You’ve been through your own Initiation, as well. You know your apprentice will be too distracted to care about what you’re doing.” 

“Not that there was anyone standing with me for it,” Arkarian laughs, but he doesn’t mean it in a bad way, and Lorian continues as if he hadn’t interrupted him.

“You just have to introduce them to us, and then walk aside with everyone else.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Arkarian agrees easily. “Don’t worry about me, Lorian. I’m just being silly.” 

He is, but Lorian doesn’t say so. He bumps his side against Arkarian’s shoulder as they walk through the palace, unhurriedly. He looks up.

“Lorian?” 

“How do you feel, aside from nervous?” he asks. Arkarian considers the question for a moment.

“I’m glad to have an apprentice,” he answers finally. “For a long time, I thought I wouldn’t even have a second ability. Having one now, and getting an apprentice… It’s not been quick by any means, but I’m glad…”

“You’ve been ready to have an apprentice for a while,” Lorian admits, a little guiltily. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner, Arkarian,” he apologizes, but Arkarian shakes his head.

“I’ve wanted one for a long time. But in a sense… I’m glad I had to wait. Funny, isn’t it? I used to complain a lot.”

“You still do,” Lorian teases, gently. Arkarian rolls his eyes.

“What I mean is… Well.” 

His face reddens, thoughts quieting until Lorian can barely make them out. Curious…

“It’s been… almost exactly two centuries, that I’ve been your apprentice,” Arkarian admits, timidly. Lorian’s breath catches, understanding. 

“Your abilities are still developing, even now, Arkarian. We’ll still see each other, did you think you were finally getting rid of me?” he asks, but again, he’s teasing. Arkarian laughs, emotion catching in his voice. He shakes his head once more.

“I should hope not! No… that’s not it either. I just… Well, I’ve become used to it being just us, I suppose,” he finishes, and Lorian hums, nodding.

“You’ll be busy from now on, that much is true. Plus, you’ve already started to take on a lot of new responsibilities within Meridian’s house, haven’t you?”

“I’m helping out with mission coordination, yes.”

“Well, then! We might not have time to train as much, but I shall expect you for dinners,” Lorian settles, startling Arkarian, who looks at him again.

“You mean…?”

“It’s been some time, but we used to share meals quite often, do you recall? We’ll both be busy with the amount of missions we have to cover lately, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still catch up over dinner, yes?”

“I… why, yes,” Arkarian smiles, a slight blush still present in his face. “That would be lovely.”

“Let’s meet in the Citadel, in fact,” Lorian continues, looking ahead, but aware that he’s being observed. Arkarian has a small, affectionate smile, that he reserves for moments when Lorian does something particularly nice. It used to ring all the alarm bells, a while back… but now, as Lorian tells him that he should eat in the Citadel since he can’t transport his body to Athens, he’s highly aware that he’s making an exception.

It’ll be fine, he tells himself. It’s just dinner. Surely, having dinner with his son… that is, his apprentice, can’t be that big of a problem. This exception should be fine…

It’ll be fine.

\------

The next day, Arkarian is wearing new robes, acknowledging him as an Instructor, a high ranking one at that, despite this being his first apprentice. He doesn’t say it, nor does he let his thoughts wander, but Lorian can tell the subtle hints of pride in his demeanor. He can’t help but smile, himself, as he watches Arkarian guide a fumbling boy towards the center of the circle and make sure he’s comfortable.

Once he does, he looks up at them.

“This is my apprentice,” Arkarian starts, his voice calm. Confident.

His eyes jump from member to member, and Lorian can tell the entire Tribunal is smiling, just as elated as Arkarian to be part of this particular initiation. But they don’t say anything, and the apprentice is none the wiser. Arkarian finally locks eyes with Lorian, after he finishes introducing the kid, and he smiles, warmly. Lorian looks at him as well, and although he’s partially hidden by the hood of his cape, he knows Arkarian can find his gaze anyway, his breath catching minutely in expectation. For a moment, everyone waits for him to nod, and continue the initiation, but Arkarian is smiling, tentative, almost questioningly, and Lorian can’t really help it.

He smiles back.

# #

"It's changing, isn't it?" Arkarian asks him one day, quite out of the blue. Lorian frowns.

"Changing?"

He turns around to look at him, and finds him inspecting the tips of his hair, confusedly.

"My hair. It didn't use to be this dark," he says, picking up some strands from his shoulders. "Nor this straight. I used to have curls, remember?"

"Ah, yes."

_'Like your mother,'_ Lorian thinks to himself, but he doesn't say that out loud, nor lets Arkarian read it. What he says instead is, "Well, agelessness doesn't necessarily mean you won't change at all."

"Huh."

The explanation doesn't seem to satisfy him, but he doesn't ask more, not immediately. Lorian observes him.

"It's very dark, though, isn't it?" he insists after a few more moments. "It's nearly black, it used to be a light brown!"

"Who's to say it won't become another color altogether? You had very light blond hair when you were a child. And your eyes also used to be a light blue, though they've become quite darker with the years."

"Have they?" Arkarian frowns, looking around.

He walks away decidedly, and Lorian can hear doors opening and closing, until he returns with a small mirror. He's staring at his own eyes.

"I think you might have a point, there," Arkarian murmurs, almost to himself. "I don't know if I like that, though. Can't it be helped?"

"I could take back your ageleness gift, and the process would probably stop, but is that something you really want?" Lorian chuckles. Arkarian shakes his head.

"Not really, no..."

"Well then, there you have it."

They stay in silence for a little bit, before Arkarian asks again:

"But do you know what it will become? What color, that is," he looks up at him, and Lorian shrugs.

"Does it matter?"

"Well, yes. I will have to get used to it eventually, no?"

"Certainly. But does it matter to you, knowing now or waiting for it to happen? You will have to get used to it anyway, won't you?"

Arkarian makes a face.

"It would help if I at least had an idea," he insists, half-heartedly.

"I don't know," Lorian answers, with a shrug.

"You don't know, or you don’t want to tell me?" he asks, eyes narrowing.

"There _are_ things I don't know, Arkarian. I can't possibly know what your eyes or your hair will look like in a thousand years. What, did you think everyone in the Tribunal has always looked like they do now? Take Lady Arabella, for example. Her skin wasn't always tinted in blue, Arkarian."

"My skin will be _blue_?" he asks, grimacing, and shuddering visibly. Lorian laughs at him.

"No, most likely not. It hasn't happened to all of them, though she _is_ the oldest of them."

"Wh— Lorian!" Arkarian sounds slightly scandalized, and he frowns at him. Lorian tries extremely hard not to laugh again, but he isn't sure he manages to hide his smile. Arkarian continues. "That's rude! You can't just call Lady Arabella _old_!" he hisses, and Lorian shakes his head, chuckling under his breath.

"I'm not! If anything, _I'm_ the oldest in the entire Guard. She's a child compared to me, but she _is_ the oldest of the rest of the Tribunal!"

"Oh, stop it! How embarrassing you are sometimes, really," he says, almost with a pout. There's a slight tint to his cheeks, and Lorian rolls his eyes. How easy it still is to tease him, sometimes.

"You and your mortal sensibilities. You'll be just as old eventually, and what will you want me to say then? That you aren't old? Come on, Arkarian, don't be silly. You’re, what, two hundred and fifty, something like that?"

"She's a lady!" he protests, frowning. _‘And I’m two hundred and thirty-eight, if you need to know,’_ he adds in his thoughts. Lorian shrugs.

"And despite that, you're being a _baby_. Lady Arabella wouldn't take offense to this, I assure you."

"Oh, what would you know. It's not like you're a woman."

"No, though I could be if I wanted to," Lorian tilts his head. "So what?"

"It's just... that's not _nice_ to say, Lorian."

"I've known Arabella for centuries upon centuries, Arkarian. Trust me on this, she would not be offended at such a small comment on her age. Everyone already knows, anyway."

"Precisely, there's no need to point it out. Ladies get really upset about it, you know."

"Oh, someone, give me patience," Lorian sighs, and Arkarian huffs. Lorian looks upwards, for the sake of being dramatic and annoying him further, but he doesn’t have to try that hard. He grins before she even enters the room.

"What seems to be the problem?" her voice interrupts them, chastising, and making Arkarian squeak. Lorian bursts out laughing, unable to contain his glee. If anything, it seems to please Lady Arabella.

"Milady," he greets, amusedly, and she smiles at them, entering the room they're in. She seems curious.

"Practicing?" she asks amiably, eyes fluttering between them both, perhaps trying to decide what they had been talking about to leave Arkarian so flustered.

"Oh, something like it," Lorian concedes. "Arkarian has progressed a lot with his second ability. He has managed to use all the elements before, now he just needs to keep them all under control,” he adds, to which Arkarian nods, jerkily. He’s still a little red in the face.

"That's good to hear," she nods towards him, but notices Arkarian soon, and tsks. "Are you teasing the poor boy? Look at him, he doesn't know where to hide!"

"Don't mind him," Lorian says, and she arches her eyebrows delicately. "I was just telling him that there was once a time when your skin was rather more mortal-colored," he explains, and Lady Arabella blinks, taken by surprise.

"Why, yes, of..."

"Oh, please!" Arkarian huffs, crossing his arms and standing up from his stool. "Can you at least try not to embarrass me like that? Mind your manners for once, please!"

Understanding colors Lady Arabella's voice when she giggles, placing a hand on Arkarian's shoulder to placate him.

"Oh, dear boy you needn't worry. It is true what Lorian is saying," she grins at Lorian, with a look that tells him she knows he’s doing it on purpose. He smiles back. "He could at least pretend to remember mortal customs, but he doesn’t mean any harm by it. Besides, it comes to a point where age is but a number, and it really doesn't matter what they say about your appearance. It changes very gradually, and I don't think this will happen to you, anyway."

"That's hardly the point," Arkarian manages to say, but she shakes her head emphatically.

"I really am not bothered, dear, but thank you."

The argument is quickly settled, then. Lorian observes with a smile, but Arkarian still pouts briefly.

"One would think he'd have better ways to entertain himself, but he loves to tease me so," he's saying, to Lady Arabella. "I skipped on having parents and went straight into having a Lorian," he adds, and Lorian is unable to decide if he's complaining or not. Lady Arabella simply smiles, indulgently.

"He does love his little jokes, sometimes, doesn't he?" she agrees. "Immortal or not, he is human,” she adds, and he’s glad that Arkarian is still flustered, as he misses the pointed look she gives Lorian. He immediately starts to regret having started the whole thing.

"I guess so."

"So, your hair is bothering you? I think you look lovely with straight hair too," she compliments, and Arkarian picks up the mirror again. He pulls on the tips of his hair, past shoulder length now that it’s straight. 

"Well..."

Lorian leaves them to their conversation before she can look at him like that again, thoughts unruly.

# #

"Are they obeying you?" Lorian asks, and Arkarian looks up from his books. He smiles when he sees him.

"Lorian," he greets, standing up from an old stool that brings back memories for both of them. "I haven't seen you in weeks. How are you?"

"Yes... I apologize. We've been assembled."

"Oh, I know. I've accidentally… kind of… become second in command when no one could find the House Heads," he admits. "It's a lot of work, I'm glad to see you're back now."

"You're already Head Coordinator, I hope they haven't been piling too much work on your shoulders," Lorian says, and Arkarian shakes his head.

"It's alright, I can take it. I can’t take the important decisions, but mostly it’s just been making sure everyone is still doing their jobs. I'm looking forward to being back at _my_ usual job description, though. I've had to relegate a few missions to other coordinators, not to mention my apprentice, whom I haven’t been able to see in a week, at least."

"Are they obeying you, then?" Lorian asks again, and Arkarian laughs, and nods.

"I think there's something to being over three hundred years old and having brilliant purple eyes, I'll give it to you," he jokes, and Lorian smiles.

"Ah, yes. That's rather recent, isn't it?"

"The color’s been turning more vibrant with the years, but they started turning purple at some point after dark blue. I don't think they're quite finished, they might be just like yours yet."

"That would be interesting."

"My hair is a disaster, though," Arkarian complains.

"It's not so bad, is it? It's black. That's very normal by mortal standards?"

"Oh, sure. It has kept nothing from my wavy texture though. It's very flat."

"I think that's just fine, it suits your face as well."

"Of course you would say that," Arkarian laughs. "Anyway, how is everything?"

"There are more and more portals every year," Lorian sighs, and Arkarian nods. "I don't even need sleep and I'm _tired_. I hope my sister isn’t planning anything, or worse, found Veridian…" he adds, but he shakes himself quickly. "Enough about me, however. Any news from your side?" Arkarian's eyes twinkle with mischief, worry draining from his expression as he answers.

"Oh, you're going to like this one. I've figured out one of my gifts. Remember I was given the gift of Recollection?"

"I recall," Lorian answers, eliciting an eye roll for his efforts. Not his best pun, then.

"And I thought it would mean I was going to have a great memory?" Arkarian continues.

"Do you not?"

"I do," Arkarian sighs, evidently trying to shuck his modesty away for a moment. "Terrific. That's not the point. Look."

He points with a hand towards the empty space between them, concentrates for a second, and Lorian thinks he's going to manipulate the elements, but instead, a wooden stool much like the one Arkarian’s sitting on appears in front of him. He whistles.

"Impressive. So you're able to bring objects towards you by remembering them? Is that what you have deduced?"

"Well, it's either that, or a third ability," Arkarian shrugs, "but those are very rare, aren't they? I've only met two people with more than two abilities, really."

"It's not common, no, but not impossible. Then again, it's far more common for gifts to morph to suit their user, with time. Your gift of Recollection could have been... updated, you could say."

"Neat," Arkarian nods. "That sounds about right. Anyway, I've only managed to bring to me objects that I'm very familiar with, that's why I thought it would have to do with Recollection. What do you think?"

"I think you're doing fantastically without my help, Arkarian," Lorian says, and places a hand on his chest, dramatically. "Maybe I should just leave the Guard in your oh so capable hands."

"Don't be silly," Arkarian reprimands him, but he's laughing. "I may no longer be an apprentice, but that doesn't mean I could ever _lead_ it. Isn't there like a... leader pure of heart, or whatever, in the Prophecy? We've already agreed it won't be me."

"No," Lorian agrees, gently. "But you will still lead the Named towards victory before that leader comes along. It's only natural that you're good at it. They listen to you, Arkarian."

"I have a lot of experience, I imagine they respect that," he shrugs. "The eyes may help," he adds, and laughs.

"They are very similar to mine," Lorian agrees.

He bites his tongue before he can tell him exactly why.

# #

Arkarian is organizing files when Lorian meets him. He’s sitting on a cushion on the floor, paper spread around him in piles, in an order only he understands. His hair is pushed back with a red piece of cloth acting as a bandana. It clashes horribly with his blue hair, but that’s not what strikes Lorian the most. His hair is… 

"Well, this is... sudden," Lorian comments, and Arkarian huffs. He hurriedly takes the bandana off, shaking his head. His hair falls on his face a bit, and he pushes it behind his ears. Or he tries to push it behind his ears, because it’s short enough that the sides don’t reach them. It barely reaches his shoulders, leaving his neck more exposed than Lorian has seen it in years. Arkarian lets him look before he sighs, and answers.

"It gets in the way."

"I'm sure," he tries to placate him. "It's just that you've had your hair long for decades. Centuries, even."

"I've had it short many times before, though. It's just for a while, I think," Arkarian dismisses the topic with the wave of a hand, but Lorian isn't so convinced.

"Is it...? Does Shaun's fight with Marduke have anything to do with this?" he ventures. Arkarian shoots him a glare, and Lorian wonders if people think he’s intimidating, now that his eyes are almost identical to his own.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're terrible at chit chat?"

"Well, I'm not here to chit chat, if that's what you're thinking," Lorian clicks his tongue. "I wanted a briefing, and you are... brooding. And dramatically cutting off your hair."

"Dramatically!" Arkarian raises his arms exasperatedly. "Now I'm being dramatic."

"Yes, quite. Will you calm down? What has happened?"

"Marduke has left us," Arkarian informs him, blankly, and Lorian nods.

"This happened a few weeks ago, will you tell me why you're so upset? Why have you asked me to come here...?"

"Sera Roberts is dead."

The sentence falls between them like a bucket of ice water, and Lorian gapes at him. Arkarian waits, rearranging yet more papers, and pushing the sleeves of his hoodie up. Lorian isn’t sure he’s ever seen him in jeans before, let alone that hoodie, but then again, he and Arkarian usually meet in Athens, where he wears his silver tunic.

"How?" he finally asks. Arkarian sighs, and summons two stools for them both as he gets up from the floor.

"Marduke has killed her in retaliation to Shaun. Shaun has also left us, he's... he doesn't want to fight anymore. I haven't been able to convince him otherwise."

"You had been helping him after his fight with Marduke, yes?"

"Yes."

"And he decided to leave because of his daughter's death?"

"Murder," Arkarian corrects, eerily serious. "Because of his daughter's murder. He has another little boy, and he feels as though the Guard can't protect him. He said he doesn't want to put him in danger, not because of our war," Arkarian huffs, despondently. "You know? I think that's the worst part, too. If I had a child, I probably wouldn't want to push them into a war, either."

This gives Lorian pause. He knows what he needs to say, what he needs to do, that someone has to take Ethan under their wing before his father sets him against the Guard. But Arkarian will not like it, and his words have struck an emotional chord in him. He eventually says something else, hoping to delay the inevitable.

"Keep an eye on the child just in case, will you?" he asks. Arkarian seems surprised.

"Ethan Roberts?"

"Yes. Shaun might be distracted, mourning... I understand that you are, too," Lorian gestures to Arkarian's freshly cut hair. "She was to be your apprentice after all, but..."

"Sera didn't deserve her death," Arkarian murmurs, voice catching in his throat. Lorian sighs.

"Of course. Make sure the other kid doesn't follow her too soon, then, will you?"

"I will," Arkarian promises.

"Very well. I will see you soon, but... for now this is enough."

“You’re planning something, aren’t you?”

Arkarian asks this with a hint of disappointment in his voice, which hurts on its own merits, but despite that, Lorian can’t help but marvel at how well he knows him.

“The kid… You know as well as I do that he will be a Named,” he tells Arkarian, who nods.

“One day, yes.”

“If we let Shaun set him against us…”

“Shaun won’t talk about the Guard,” Arkarian interrupts him. “He may have left us but his loyalties haven’t changed. He’s just scared, Lorian.”

“Still. If we can keep an eye on him, he might be useful if we want to get Shaun back on the Guard at some point.”

“You want to use Ethan as _bait_?” Arkarian asks, with a grimace. Lorian frowns.

“Not _bait_ , but we can’t leave a Named without training, and we can’t afford to lose Shaun forever, Arkarian. You know this. The Guard needs them, the Named are the elite among them.”

“And you’re willing to sacrifice a kid for it?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Lorian interjects. “I’m not sacrificing the kid. He will go mad if he’s not taught to control his powers, and you know this. If anything, we’re helping him, since his father won’t. It just so happens that it also helps us get Shaun back on our side eventually.”

Arkarian doesn’t argue, at least not out loud. His thoughts are unshielded, and Lorian knows he doesn’t entirely agree with his logic. He looks up at him with pleading eyes, and Lorian closes his. He places a hand on his son's shoulder.

"I know how you feel," he mumbles, so quietly he isn't sure Arkarian hears him. Even if he did, he wouldn't know the full extent of what he's saying. "Stay strong, Arkarian. The Guard _will_ win."

"No one said _children_ had to die for it," Arkarian murmures back, and Lorian doesn't know what to say to that.

He returns to Athens with conflicted emotions swirling within himself.

_'I probably wouldn't want to push them into a war, either.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed my story :D
> 
> If you did, please consider leaving kudos or a comment, they're greatly appreciated!
> 
> If you’d like to create related content based on my fic, please visit my profile for my blanket permission statement!
> 
> If you want to yell with me and share more headcanons for these dorks, you can find me at my tumblr, [kyokotsukuyomi](http://kyokotsukuyomi.tumblr.com/), the comments section down below, or any of the links in my profile. Don't be shy!
> 
> Love,
> 
> ~Lena


	3. - MASTER -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ’ _Kar?’_ Lorian thinks, amused.
> 
> "Ethan is _four_. Whoever decided to name me clearly didn't think about children, no wonders _I_ forgot my own name," Arkarian says through gritted teeth. Lorian stops grinning immediately, but Arkarian isn't looking at him anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't play favorites, but you can probably tell how much fun I had while writing this chapter XD It's also hella long, so enjoy!
> 
> ~Lena

# Chapter 3 - Master

’ _Kar?’_ Lorian thinks, amused.

Arkarian sighs in annoyance, and glares at Lorian over Ethan's distressed voice. He's not crying, but seems mighty close, not that anyone is blaming him. The Tribunal is very imposing, and he's...

"Ethan is _four_. Whoever decided to name me clearly didn't think about children, no wonders _I_ forgot my own name," Arkarian says through gritted teeth. Lorian stops grinning immediately, but Arkarian isn't looking at him anymore.

Instead, he crouches to Ethan's level, who's white as a sheet, and places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Out of all of his gifts, Touch was one of the last few he’d developed, but he's clearly comfortable using it to help Ethan get through this.

They speak in quiet tones. Ethan's control of his own voice isn't the best, and so Lorian can hear almost everything he says. It's an endearing nickname that Arkarian seems to tolerate for Ethan's benefit. Lorian hadn't meant to...

"We're ready now, aren't we, Ethan?" Arkarian interrupts his train of thought. He looks at the child clutching at Arkarian’s silver tunic like his life depends on it, almost hiding behind him. Arkarian gently coaxes him to step ahead.

"Y-yes," Ethan says, valiantly, and Lorian likes him already. He smiles, but it does little for the boy, as his aura is likely too powerful for him to be entirely comfortable.

"Very good," he says, and walks back to his seat. "Let's proceed, then."

Arkarian smiles down at Ethan, throws him a wink, and the kid flushes in pride.

"You're doing great," Arkarian mumbles to him. "This will be super easy, Ethan."

"Can you stay here?" Ethan pleads anyway, and Arkarian nods indulgently. 

He doesn’t bother asking Lorian. It’s not often, but on a few occasions the Tribunal has allowed an Instructor to accompany their apprentice in the circle. Lorian lets it slip, aware that he would have agreed as well, had he been asked. Arkarian summons a stool, and helps Ethan on it.

"Of course. Here you go. Now, let's hear what they say, okay?"

"Yes!"

Ethan Robert's initiation goes on without a hitch. The little boy is energetic, a little rambunctious once he’s more comfortable, but listens to Arkarian with intent and does everything he says. Lady Arabella mentions this as the public and some of the Tribunal members vacate the room, and Arkarian rolls his eyes.

"We'll see how long that lasts," he says, and picks Ethan up from the stool. Ethan clings to him, not wanting to be put down, and Lady Arabella simply smiles. "Ah, all in all he's a good kid, aren't you Ethan?" Arkarian smiles too, and shrugs. "I admit, it's a first, working with someone so young."

"It will be a challenge, but I'm sure you'll do well, Arkarian. Children have always liked you."

"I didn't know you had a good hand for kids," Lorian wonders aloud, getting closer. Ethan hides against Arkarian, burrowing his face into his hair. It has grown back to his shoulders by now, long enough that Ethan can grab a fistful in his haste to look away from Lorian. Arkarian doesn’t seem to care, instead, he places a hand on his back and shrugs again, bouncing him idly.

"I don’t exactly live around children, but I used to deal with them a lot more back when having servants was more common. I guess it still is, here in Athens, but I don't live here anymore, so..."

"Living in the citadel won't be good for you in the long run, I keep telling you," Lady Arabella insists. He chuckles.

"There's much to do there, and it's safe."

"Let's hope that doesn't last forever," she sighs. "I miss having you around here in Athens."

"I come back often, Milady, and you know my body can never truly ‘live’ in the past."

The conversation could have probably continued, but Arkarian looks over at Ethan, whose thoughts are rather quiet, and chuckles.

"I should get this little one back home. He's just about exhausted, and we don't want to risk his parents going into his room," he adds, with a glance that speaks volumes. The other two nod. Shaun still doesn't trust the Guard, and he would know what they're doing behind his back. It’s impossible to say if their plan would work, were he to discover them so soon.

"The poor thing," Lady Arabella coos, petting Ethan's hair. The boy squeaks in surprise, but doesn't recoil, too sleepy to do much other than look at her, wide eyed. "Yes, you should get this little duckling home. Off you go, then."

"See you soon, Milady, Lorian," Arkarian lowers his head a little, and Ethan does too, after a second of contemplation. Which is just as good, because he misses the amused smiles of all three.

Lorian watches them go, and Lady Arabella sighs beside him.

"Do you ever think about Arkarian having...?"

"Milady," he warns, and she sighs again, averting her eyes. Lorian knows there are tears in her eyes whether she shows them or not, and sighs as well before answering. "Of course I do. Of course he does. Arkarian isn't a young boy anymore, Milady, you know this."

"Do you think he wants to...?"

"Hm?"

"Do you think he would... you know, leave us? Shaun has, after all, to care for a family. And he's hardly the first..."

He doesn't answer for a long time. After a while, he quietly places a hand on her back, gently stroking with his thumb twice. She stiffens for a second before relaxing. It's rare that he would show affection like this, and it's all she needs in lieu of an answer.

Lorian doesn't know, and it scares him.

# #

Arkarian is tired. Lorian can see it a mile away. Not only that, he's tired and slightly bored, going by the unending stream of mathematics running through his head. Not that Arkarian finds them boring, but they just sound... they’re very repetitive, yet simple, and, well, they feel like he's bored. Thoughts have a very distinct sound when the person is bored.

"I know you're there," Arkarian says quietly, yawning. "What is it?"

"Nothing much. I thought I would pay a visit, considering I've managed to find some minutes of free time."

"Oh, wow, a unicorn," Arkarian jokes. He turns his chair around to look at him. "How are you?"

Lorian looks at him as he pushes away the notebook he’d been looking at and stretches. He folds his arms around himself when he finishes turning toward him, pulling the ends of the cardigan he’s wearing tighter around himself. He’s otherwise wearing comfortable clothes, and winter socks with red dots on the bottom. He seems cozy.

"Things seem to be going fine, for now,” Lorian tells him. “More missions than ever, and I don't think this is going to change anytime soon, but at least we seem to be winning more than losing," he adds. "What about you?"

"You know, same as always. Ethan is growing up quickly, he's progressing admirably, and I have no idea what to do about his nightmares. No one does, and it's killing me," Arkarian admits easily, heart on his sleeve. He’s thinking of Ethan’s progress with his ability. How much longer he’s able to use it for, now. How he can now lift heavy objects, and how he’s starting to manipulate complex mechanisms. His second ability is also developing nicely, and has recently started to create multisensorial illusions, not just visual. Lorian nods along all these thoughts, but they don’t distract him from the anxiousness in Arkarian’s voice.

"Hang in there," he murmurs, patting his shoulder. "I'm sure it will be solved eventually,” he adds, and Arkarian sighs.

"I hope so... he's having a lot of nightmares lately, he's barely sleeping. They stopped for a little while, through meditation and other techniques, but..."

"How old is Ethan by now?"

"He's nine," Arkarian rubs his eyes. "He needs the sleep. He said it's making his parents worry, so it must be getting really bad..."

"How is Shaun?"

"Desperate. Laura isn't getting any better, and she’s been to the emergency room twice this month. Ethan doesn't know this yet. He knows his mom is sad, but it won't be long before he starts noticing his mom's... well, the extent of her depression. It's bad, Lorian. It's really bad. I'm scared for her. I can’t imagine how Shaun must be feeling..."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Arkarian."

"Yeah... me too."

"What's that?" Lorian asks, hoping to change the subject. He's pointing at the notebook Arkarian had been reading, but he has exactly zero luck with his intentions.

"Ethan's homework. He asked me to correct it, his parents really don't have the time for it and he's... I mean, to nobody's surprise, since he barely sleeps, he's not doing well in some classes," Arkarian finishes. He’s clearly annoyed, but purposefully keeping his voice low. It's really that, which gives Lorian the hint.

"He's here with you?"

"Yes. He told his parents he was staying over at Matt's... a friend of his."

"What did he tell his friend?" Lorian arches an eyebrow, but Arkarian shakes his head.

"Matt doesn't know, but it doesn't matter. Like I said, his parents really don't have the time. For him. Like, at all."

Arkarian is angry. Of course he would be, Lorian thinks, but he's still surprised. It has been a while since Arkarian was really angry at someone. Lorian nods, and sits on the table next to him. The notebook is marked on a few places with pencil, Arkarian's neat handwriting in harsh contrast to Ethan's own childish one. It tugs at Lorian's heartstrings, which is something he really should get used to. When it comes to Arkarian, it's nothing new at all. Some things, you can't just detach yourself from, he supposes.

"You're taking good care of him, Arkarian," he tells him, but Arkarian shakes his head.

"Yes, I know, but I'm not his father," he says, gritting his teeth. When he looks away, Lorian knows the idea has struck a chord in him. "He wants his parents, Lorian, and I can give him about everything he could ask for, except for that. I know just how he feels, and it's..." he shakes his head again, rubs his eyes. "It just sucks. It's horrible, Lorian, it breaks my heart."

"Arkarian..."

"Ethan will wake up from a nightmare, and pretend to catch the early bus to come and see me for a bit, you know? Tell me about the same nightmare he's always had, hug me like he hasn't been hugged in years. He's a prodigy in the Guard, and yet, somehow, he’s rubbish at shielding his thoughts no matter how much he practices, and I _know_ he's thinking of his dad, and how he wants him to understand as well as I do, and I can't even tell him his dad used to be a Guardian, not yet. I can’t do _anything_ for him."

There's a moment of silence. Lorian wonders whether telling Ethan about his father is even a good idea, at this point. The boy had become a great Guardian, loyal to a fault, and Arkarian had told him repeatedly that it would crush Ethan to know that his father had deserted them. They’d had that discussion multiple times, until Lorian had agreed to let Ethan become his own person before giving him the choice to tell his father himself, or letting the Guard take care of it. He looks into Arkarian’s thoughts, and he realizes that he still thinks the same, and yet… Yet, Lorian can also read the overwhelming affection he holds for the kid, and how his suffering is affecting them both.

He’s trying to think of something to say, when they hear a quiet 'thunk'. Arkarian is on his feet immediately, even before Lorian registers the thoughts stirring awake in a nearby room. HE must be really in tune with them by now… Lorian follows him, slightly behind. He doesn't want Ethan to see him, and he won't, but he wants to see what has Arkarian so worried.

Ethan is a little scrawny, but mostly he just looks tired. He's tall for a nine year old, Lorian thinks, not that he knows many kids. His hair is sticking in every direction, and he mentally calls for Arkarian half-heartedly, seemingly surprised when Arkarian does appear. They have left the light on, outside, and Lorian can see in the semi darkness the way he settles the boy with his touch. Ethan throws his arms around him, and Arkarian wipes tears off his face, shushing him with the experience of someone who has been doing this for years. Ethan closes his eyes again quickly, curling closer to Arkarian for comfort. Arkarian's eyes never leave Ethan’s face, not even when his thoughts open to acknowledge Lorian's presence without waking the boy up.

_'This is already the second time tonight,'_ he thinks, and his thoughts are much more anguished than his words had been. Lorian enters the room, but Arkarian doesn't look up. _'He manages to sleep again when he's here, but the moment I leave his side, he will start having nightmares again. It's almost like the nightmares know, Lorian, it worries me. It's like they know that I'm here, that I can read his thoughts, and they don't want me to.'_

Lorian doesn't answer, but he places a hand on Arkarian's back, and he finally breaks down a little; a single, silent sob wracking his back before he sniffs, wipes his eyes, and lies down next to Ethan. His fingers tangle in a mop of dark hair, pushing it away from Ethan’s face. Asleep like this, Ethan looks his age more than ever, and the sweet innocence in his features is enough to understand why anyone would want to keep him away from a war, away from the Guard. 

_'Get some sleep, Arkarian,'_ Lorian encourages, unable to look away. Arkarian simply sighs in response. When he looks back at him, his eyes are still shining with tears, but he seems more serene. His hand falls on Ethan’s arm, curled protectively around his smaller frame.

_'This has to stop eventually, Lorian. It has to. It's destroying him.'_

Lorian hates to lie to Arkarian, but he doesn't find the strength to say he can't do anything about it. He nods, and tries to smile instead. He shields his thoughts before Arkarian realizes this is bringing back memories of a few years back.

_‘If I had a child…’_

# #

Ethan is in Athens tonight, and Lorian is unsure of how to approach the topic this time. He’s aware he’s quieter than usual. Lord Penbarin goes as far as nudging Lady Arabella for help, but she doesn’t intervene. When he stands from the table, it’s Queen Brystianne who excuses herself to accompany him. He nods toward her as she mentally asks for permission to walk with him.

“Something troubles you, my Lord?” she asks after a few minutes of walking within the palace. He sighs.

“It’s nothing serious. I would have brought it up during our meeting earlier, had it been,” he reassures her. She nods graciously, with a smile.

“I’m sure, my Lord.”

She doesn’t insist, but Lorian doesn’t mind telling her. The Tribunal members had gotten to know the boy very well, in the last few years. It was more and more uncommon as of late, but as a child, Ethan Roberts had spent as much time as humanly possible with Arkarian, going as far as shadowing him while he worked on his other responsibilities. 

He walks towards a more private area of the palace, and lets her into the room first. She gasps.

Ethan and Arkarian are lying on the floor, cushions and pillows propped up around them like some sort of fortress. The room smells of grass, and the outdoors, and the ceiling is dark, emulating the night sky. The stars shine brightly, and Ethan seems to be in the process of remodeling his illusion under Arkarian’s instructions. He’s… reorganizing the _stars_.

In any case, the illusion dissipates as soon as the boy realizes they’ve been caught. He gasps as well, looking at Arkarian to ascertain whether they’ll be mad. Arkarian, however, is _beaming_.

“Lorian!” he calls, and then sees he’s not alone, and tilts his head. “Queen Brystianne,” he adds, this time more of a question in his voice.

“Arkarian,” she replies, cordially. Ethan looks between them, wondering as he always does. Lorian wishes he would ask, because he’s heard the boy wonder so many times about Arkarian’s relationship with other Tribunal members, that he’s almost curious himself. Arkarian, possibly following both of their thoughts, chuckles, and changes the topic away from Brystianne.

“Ethan, won’t you show Lorian what you’ve learned?” he asks.

“Huh?” Ethan starts to blush, put on the spot. “But I’m still not that good at it…”

“Of course you are!” Arkarian chuckles. “Come on. I’ll help you again.”

“They won’t fit here with us,” Ethan objects, pointing at the cushions around them. Arkarian shrugs.

“They can watch from there.”

Lorian walks closer, startling Queen Brystianne, who approaches more slowly, confused as to what he’s doing. He really isn’t known for overseeing the training of apprentices, he supposes. He crouches to be closer to their level, and Ethan squirms, uncomfortable. Without missing a beat, Arkarian tugs him to his lap, making space so that Lorian can sit with him, and Ethan doesn’t argue, instead looking to see if Queen Brystianne will join them as well. She pulls a chair to their side instead, minding her dress as she does. After a moment in which Ethan glowers at Arkarian, cheeks still flushed, he sighs and closes his eyes to concentrate.

The scent comes first, interestingly enough. Most illusionists find sight to be the easiest sense to imitate. If he recalls correctly, Ethan’s first illusion had been that of quietness, instead. It had happened at night, while he tried to sleep, and he’d ran over to Arkarian to tell him the next morning. Lorian still remembers Arkarian’s initial confusion when he’d told him about it later that day, and then the look of infinite sadness that overtook him as they both realized that Ethan must be tired of hearing his parents argue, or cry, or both. Ethan had become a lot more lively since then, Lorian reflects. As he does, he starts to hear crickets, and soon enough, a soft breeze appears in the room. Ethan’s still focused, but Arkarian grins at Lorian.

_‘Isn’t this amazing? Just wait,’_ he enthuses, and Lorian can’t help but return the smile.

It isn’t by far the first time Arkarian has been really excited about his apprentices’ progress, but… Lorian wonders, not for the first time, whether it had been a mistake to let him take on such a young apprentice. They’d gotten so close, and Ethan clearly adored him, but eventually, he will… 

_‘Like everyone else will,’_ Arkarian tells him, interrupting his thoughts, and Lorian realizes he may have not shielded them properly. Arkarian rolls his eyes, arms tightening around Ethan defensively. _‘No, you’re just easy to read. I’m proud of him, Lorian. Can you blame me? I won’t say I’ve raised him, you and I both know it takes a lot more than what I’ve done for him to truly be a parent, but I’ve helped him through a lot of difficult things, and he’s doing so well…’_

Lorian doesn’t answer. He isn’t sure that anything he says will be well received, and there’s no need for Ethan to hear this particular argument. Arkarian doesn’t say so, but he seems grateful that he drops the topic. He looks around them, and as he does, the room darkens, and they’re immersed in the illusion once more. A dark, moonless sky is above them, and Queen Brystianne claps, startling Ethan. She smiles, perhaps a tad sadly, and Lorian wonders if she’s also heard what Arkarian was thinking.

“This is fantastic, Ethan!” she says, brightly. Arkarian beams at her, and then looks at Ethan, who flushes some more and grins too.

“Go on,” Arkarian says, and this time Ethan doesn’t hesitate. He looks up at the sky, and starts to move stars around in his own illusion.

He starts with Ursa Major, a slightly misshapen one, before he gets stuck, and looks at Arkarian for help. Taking one of Ethan’s hands, Arkarian starts drawing another constellation on his palm with his fingertips. Ethan watches, intently, as stars move above him. 

It goes on for a few minutes. Queen Brystianne observes them all in silence, but she’s the first to break. With slightly glassy eyes, she catches their attention by standing up. She pats Ethan’s head.

“You’re going to do wonderful things, Ethan Roberts,” she murmurs, affectionately. Ethan’s a little too starstruck to react immediately, but he grins widely as he watches her step out of the room. The illusion holds, despite her interference.

Arkarian seems conflicted. He’s likely realized why she had to step outside, and Lorian sighs. He places a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re both doing wonderful work,” he praises as well. Arkarian doesn’t seem as sure anymore, and when he meets his eyes this time, he seems sad. He looks aside, guiltily looking at the door Brystianne has just closed. “Do you want to…? I can watch Ethan for a minute, if…” Lorian tries to offer, but Arkarian shakes his head.

“She’ll be alright,” he murmurs. “Besides, Ethan shouldn’t stay too much longer. We’ve been training for a long time today, haven’t we?” he manages to compose himself before turning to Ethan, who’s still smiling, unaware of the inner turmoil of the rest of the people in the room. “You have school tomorrow, and you know your body doesn’t sleep as well as it does when your soul is in it,” he reminds him, patiently. Ethan frowns, but the illusion fades into nothing after a moment, and he stands up from Arkarian’s lap, offering a hand to help him up. Arkarian takes it. “Thank you, Ethan.”

“Are you going to teach me where all the constellations are?” the boy asks. Arkarian and Lorian laugh.

“I somehow doubt that would be useful. I don’t even think I know them _all_ ,” he adds. Ethan shakes his head.

“You know _everything_!”

“Lorian, perhaps. Me? I wish…” Arkarian looks at Lorian with a gentle smile. “I’ll take Ethan back home.”

“I’ll see you later, then,” Lorian accepts. Arkarian nods, and helps Ethan put all the cushions back in their places.

Lorian steps outside, not expecting to find Queen Brystianne still there, but not entirely surprised either. She seems calm again, if a tad contemplative. 

“He has so much love to give,” she sighs, walking with him. They go slower this time, enjoying the quietness of the palace during the night. “I knew this, but it still hurts to see him like this.”

“He seems happy,” Lorian observes, and she nods. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into.”

“Arkarian isn’t a kid anymore,” she agrees. “He doesn’t get close to people very often, but when he does, he gives them his all. I’ll be sorry to see Ethan Roberts pass away…”

“Arkarian has always been good with children,” a different voice adds, sadly. 

They turn to look at Lord Meridian, who walks toward them, trailed by Lady Elena. For a moment, silence sets between them, until Lorian sighs.

“Under different circumstances, I wouldn’t have asked him to train the boy,” he says. They all seem to agree. “But after Sera’s death, and Shaun’s decision, Arkarian was so distraught… In a sense, having to take care of Ethan helped him focus. I think it helped them both heal from that experience,” he explains.

They nod. Lady Elena quirks her lips into a small smile. With a look around to ascertain they’re alone, she says:

“One never knows, Lorian. He may make a grandfather of you yet, one day.”

She clearly means it as a joke, and they all laugh. But, deep down, it stings. It really does.

# #

Lorian finds Arkarian smiling amusedly at nothing in particular. It’s not often he visits the coordination rooms in the Citadel, and his arrival seems to have caused a bit of a ruckus among the rest of coordinators, but when he walks into the room Arkarian is working in, he doesn’t seem to notice him at all.

"Oh, hey," he says after a few moments of silence, looking up to see Lorian in the doorway. "Come in. This mission is going alright, for now."

"What is so funny about it?"

"Oh, nothing, I was just thinking about something from earlier. Ethan is absolutely freaking out about having an apprentice, and he doesn't even know Isabel yet."

"I thought they had been childhood friends," Lorian frowns.

"More like childhood acquaintances, but they haven't seen each other in years. I think it's going to be hilarious, personally, but, you know," Arkarian shrugs. "I don't know that Ethan is going to think the same."

"Right."

"What do you make of her?"

"Isabel Becket?" Lorian frowns, and Arkarian simply nods, waiting. "Nothing, I haven't met her. Why?"

"She seems... different," Arkarian admits. "I mean, have you read her file? She seems to already know how to do pretty much everything aside from her special abilities, and she's _fifteen_. Hell, when I was fifteen I didn't know my own name," he offers. Lorian tilts his head.

"Out with it, what are you trying to tell me?" he teases, but Arkarian narrows his eyes.

"I'm fairly sure that's what I mean. She just seems different than other apprentices, that's all."

"Oh?"

"Okay, you've lost me," Arkarian frowns a bit more. He can't fully look away from the sphere, as he's monitoring a mission, and Lorian doesn't want to distract him anyway.

"Don't worry about it. She's a Named, Arkarian, you know this much. They're all a little special in their own right."

"Hm. Yeah, maybe you're right."

"Have you met her?"

"Not yet, though I'm sure Ethan will bring her around at some point. It's not likely he will want to do the explaining, knowing him."

"Fair enough. Let us know when they're ready to get her Initiated."

"Soon," Arkarian grimaces. "They already have a mission assigned in a little over two weeks. I don't think there will be time to Initiate her before that, but the sooner the better, after that, I would say."

"Will she be ready?"

"Oh, she will. Like I said, she does everything when it comes to physical training. What little she doesn't yet, she will pick up in no time. It's her ability I'm concerned about, but... something tells me she will do fine. Still, Ethan needs to be on that mission, and if she manages to use hers in time it will make it so much easier."

“And you think she’ll manage in two weeks? It hasn’t appeared yet, has it?”

"Well, it depends on what it _is_. I don't think it's manifested yet, but I have a feeling it will be soon, maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after. They always have this..." Arkarian sighs, shaking his head. "I don't know how to explain it. I'm not good at reading auras, you know I'm not, but people who are, say it's impossible to miss it, and maybe it's because I've been monitoring Guard members for centuries, but I think I know what they mean."

"Interesting. Yes, they do have a different aura. I'm sure you have a trained enough eye for that, at least, even if it's not one of your abilities." 

Arkarian doesn’t answer, shrugging and going back to the mission he’s coordinating. His abilities were broader than most people’s, and he’d managed to pick others through the years that weren’t easily explained. Together with his current eye color, Lorian wonders if it will be enough someday to tip him toward his parentage, to make him realize he must be…

"I wonder what her initiation gifts will be," Arkarian murmurs then, tilting his head. It startles Lorian a little, but he chuckles.

"You'll know in time."

"But you could _tell_ me, instead?" he tries again. Lorian shakes his head, amused.

"No chance."

"Aw."

It's amusing, he thinks. Arkarian will know in time, of course. Both her gifts for her Initiation, and the reason she seems different than the rest. It's not really up to Lorian to tell him, anyway...

And he selfishly hopes it might make it easier for Arkarian to ignore the feeling, if he doesn't find out at all.

# #

"You knew."

It's an accusation, and Lorian winces. He doesn't need to turn around. Arkarian walks around him to force him to look at his eyes anyway, and the betrayal he finds in them threatens to break his resolve. But he doesn't plead, not yet.

"You knew," Arkarian repeats, with venom, and points at him. Lorian wonders if he's been drinking, but the red in his eyes seems to be due mostly to long dried tears. "You. _Knew_. And you didn't tell me! You knew, and I almost let her die, because you didn't tell me. How _could_ you," he spits out, and his hands are shaking, his entire frame is shaking. Lorian doesn't dare to try and touch him, or go any closer. He doesn't want to make him any angrier. "How _dare_ you," Arkarian continues. "She died. She died! You let her die, this is on you, you know that? Had she died, I would have forever mourned someone, hell, I would have never known who she was. Do you realize this? Do you realize what it would have meant to me? Or have you really forgotten what it means to the rest of us, being alone forever? I get it, you simply forgot what love feels like, huh?”

He's being a little unfair, but Lorian doesn't think for a second that he has any right to say so. It's very traumatic, he thinks. Arkarian just watched his soulmate die, and had to bring her back without the certainty that it would even work.

"She wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Ethan, if it wasn't for him being stubborn, and idealistic, and always wanting to help. You _know_ I have seen far too many people cross that bridge, and you _know_ I refuse to go there myself anymore, if Ethan hadn’t... I mean, sure, maybe we all sent her to a mission she wasn't fully ready for, and sure, this is a war, but you had _no_ right to keep this information to yourself!"

He stops, breathes hard as if he's trying to find some more reasons to yell at him, and when he fails, he opens his arms, looking for an explanation.

"You knew!" he insists, as if that's the only thing he can think of saying. It might be. Lorian closes his eyes, and just... nods.

Arkarian breaks down.

Lorian hasn't seen Arkarian cry like this in a long time, maybe ever at all. They met when Arkarian was already eighteen, and not prone to endless crying. He had always been very respectful, at the beginning, and even when they got closer and closer, he rarely let the Immortal see him like this. He's always been honest with his emotions, but this... Lorian isn't even sure he _can_ comprehend the pain he's feeling. He barely spent time with Charlotte, back then, but he’d felt the pull from the beginning. It had been like nothing he’d ever known, and he’d known immediately that he had to leave her before he got attached. It had hurt, but… but not like this.

He’s selfish, he knows he is, but seeing Arkarian, he can’t bring himself to regret his decision to leave Charlotte when he did. 

But, in any case, the point now is that he doesn't know what to do with the weeping Arkarian in front of him. He gets a little closer, enough to put a hand on his shoulder. Arkarian tenses at first, and Lorian is about to step back when he takes a deep breath, relaxing against his touch, almost leaning into him. After a few moments, as Arkarian’s breathing starts to calm down, he feels it’s safe now to pull him into a hug. Arkarian lets him, hiding his face against Lorian’s chest. He awkwardly tries to pat his shoulders, brushing his hair back. It’s starting to be really long, the way he used to wear it before Marduke’s treason, Lorian thinks to himself. He wonders if the recent news about Isabel would make him cut it again. Then again, he may keep it. She likes his hair, and Lorian has only needed to meet her for a little while to notice her thoughts.

"I'm sorry," Lorian says when Arkarian pulls away, looking a bit more collected, if not calm. Arkarian laughs a little, rubbing his eyes. He looks both exactly the same as always and eternally ancient, and Lorian doesn't think this lightly.

"Yeah? I bet you are. Did you think about this when you gave me this gift? Was it funny, huh? An inside joke with the rest of the Tribunal? I've wondered before, but man, this is just plain cruel," he mutters, and Lorian makes a face. Arkarian interrupts him before he can justify himself, or deny Arkarian's accusations. "Get me a drink. No, scratch that, get me several. I'm staying in Athens tonight, and you better stay with me and make sure I don't do something stupid. You owe me that much."

Lorian doesn’t answer, watching Arkarian turn around and start walking towards his place in Athens, one he rarely uses anymore. He follows him, turning his words around in his head. What _does_ Lorian owe Arkarian? What does one owe a son they never recognized as such, not in the ways that really matter? Arkarian can’t know, but more than that, he probably would resent Lorian for having hid it for so long. 

"You better have a fucking good reason for this," Arkarian adds, almost a threat, one that has no heat behind it. "You better know what the fuck you're doing, I swear."

Arkarian says a lot of things he doesn't mean that night. Lorian doesn't say anything in return. He knows he deserves this from him, and he knows Arkarian won't do anything he threatens to do, but it still hurts to hear it. He suspects that's the entire point, and he keeps quiet about that too.

Does he have a good reason? He thinks about that question for the rest of the night, long after Arkarian falls asleep, both exhausted and too drunk to really do much else. He watches over him, and it's already late in the morning when a voice echoes around them, waking Arkarian up. It's Ethan, calling him from Earth. It must be really early over there, Lorian thinks, as he watches his son blink slowly, with a frown. He sits up in the bed Lorian has tucked him in hours ago, looks around himself. When his eyes meet Lorian, he seems startled.

"Don't worry," Lorian tells him, and Arkarian blinks, confused. "You didn't do anything stupid, I've been here the whole time."

"I feel like I said a lot of stupid stuff," he manages, clearing his throat. "Didn't I?"

"No," Lorian shakes his head, and closes his eyes, unable to meet Arkarian's. "No, Arkarian, you didn't. You said a lot of truths, and a lot of feelings, and I would never blame you for that.”

This seems to hit close home, because Arkarian winces, eyes shooting daggers at him.

“You really couldn’t, could you?” he grumbles. “You gave me this gift. Would be very hypocritical of you to now blame me for the gift you gave me.”

“Arkarian…”

“What?” he sighs. “You know this has been an issue before. It’s not like I woke up yesterday and realized that I’m not allowed to fall in love like a normal person.”

“Arkarian, please. I’m sorry,” Lorian pleads, quietly. It seems to do the trick, as Arkarian stops talking, and meets his eye. For a moment, Lorian thinks he’s going to start arguing again, or, worse, that he will stop talking to him entirely. But Arkarian does neither, eyes narrowing as he considers the apology. His thoughts are fully shielded, for a change, and silence stretches between them.

“Ethan is waiting for me," Arkarian says, instead of answering. "I... I'll be back soon, I imagine, but I should let him know I'm okay."

"... Of course," Lorian manages before Arkarian disappears. 

Lorian concentrates, trying to reach the Earth with his mind, as Arkarian uses his wings to leave. He meets Ethan just before the boy can go away, and receives a hug so suddenly they both tumble to the ground. He probably has a headache. Or a full body ache, Lorian supposes. A trip to the Middle Realm is never good, much less when your other half is about to die entirely. Arkarian won't be feeling well anytime today, not between that and what had transpired the rest of the night. But Ethan doesn't need to know that, and whether or not he figures it out on his own, Arkarian doesn't confirm nor deny it. They hug for a little longer, and it seems like Arkarian manages to reassure Ethan that Isabel will be alright, but it also sounds a little like he's trying to reassure himself.

Lorian stops looking when he realizes that Arkarian is the one making up reasons why Isabel herself shouldn't know. They hit him harder than they should, considering he knows they're the best option, at least for now. He knows, because he knew. He knew, and he said nothing.

# #

“He’s just got back to coordinating missions,” Jimmy all but hisses as Arkarian leaves the meeting room they’d been in to go fetch some reports. Lorian can’t help but wince.

He and Jimmy watch Arkarian almost run into Lord Penbarin as the Lord turns the corner unexpectedly. Perhaps it’s the comparison effect, but Lorian can’t help but think that Arkarian looks thinner than usual. Maybe it’s early to say, however. Sure, he hasn’t been eating much, but it’s only been a week and a half, after all. He turns to look at Jimmy, who is currently staring him down. He averts his eyes as soon as Lorian looks at him, but he stands his ground. Lorian can appreciate that, he really can.

“Yes,” he replies, because Jimmy’s previous words don’t give him much to work with. “He has.”

“I know you’ve been with him for much longer,” he continues. “So correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think the man has ever taken this kind of holiday before. Especially not with as many missions as we’re having to do as of late.”

Perceptive. 

Lorian regards the man in silence for a second. He’s been in the Guard ever since he was a teenager, and he’d been trained by a Guardian who isn’t around anymore. Arkarian had taken him under his wing after that, even though the young Jimmy hadn’t really needed an Instructor anymore, and they’d become good friends since. It’s frankly alarming that Arkarian hasn’t told him yet, Lorian thinks. He sighs.

“You’re correct,” he murmurs, but it seems to be the wrong thing to say, because Jimmy only grows more agitated. 

“There’s something he’s not telling me,” he says, almost a quiet growl behind his words. “And I can respect his wish for privacy. But you know everything, and Arkarian is your best soldier, so you better be doing something about it,” he insists, and his eyes hold Lorian’s gaze, briefly, but intensely. When he has to look away, he seems cross with himself for it, and Lorian speaks before he can dwell on that.

“Unfortunately, there is not a lot I can do for him at the moment, Jimmy. Arkarian won’t come to me for help, either, and it’s not my place to meddle, not for this.”

“Can I help somehow?” he pleads, and Lorian starts to shake his head, but is interrupted. “I’ll do anything.”

It’s not a simple sentence, thrown away by a naive child. The man that stands in front of him means it. It warms Lorian’s heart, somewhat, to know that despite everything, Arkarian often finds himself surrounded by people who are loyal to him.

“Arkarian will tell you what’s happened when he’s ready,” he reassures him. “And then you’ll realize there is nothing we can do. Only he can change his situation, and, to my understanding, he doesn’t quite want to,” he sighs again. “I can’t say I fault him, and you will understand too, soon.”

“... I see.” 

They sit back before Arkarian comes back, and Jimmy looks over the reports they’d been discussing. He’s come a long way, Lorian thinks. The kid that Arkarian once brought to a meeting, arguing he should participate in constructing a better defense system for Veridian… that kid could have never imagined he would be here, _arguing_ with the immortal, of all things. And yet, Lorian can follow his thoughts clear as day. He’s ready, or he thinks he is, when Jimmy finally decides to speak again.

“He’s only just got back to coordinating missions,” he repeats, this time a bit more calmly. Lorian fully expects another question, but he doesn’t get the kind he’s expecting. “Don’t you think this is a bit too much for him right now?”

He blinks.

“This… meeting?” he asks, and Jimmy frowns.

“No, not really the meeting. I mean…” he points at the reports. “This is his handwriting. Why is he working on a remodel of the Citadel’s transportation rooms? I understand why I’m here, I’ll be the one overseeing it, but him? He deserves any rest he can get, I don’t think he’s been sleeping,” he presses further, and Lorian is, for once, unsure on how to answer. “Arkarian will overwork himself if given the chance, you must know that.”

Jimmy seems to lose the nerve to speak against him when Lorian frowns at him, and he averts his eyes, but doesn’t take back the words.

“Of course I know that,” Lorian says. But he still doesn’t know how to address the rest of Jimmy’s words. “I’m sure he’s just looking for a distraction…”

“This is a bit excessive,” Jimmy insists. “The coordination’s team was falling apart two days ago, and he’s only just putting things in order over there. There is no need for him to be involved in this, who put him up for this task?”

“I-” Lorian frowns some more. “I’m not certain. Some other house head, I’m sure.”

“And who asked him to oversee the training of this newbie… ah, can’t remember his name… He looked miserable, my Lord,” Jimmy adds. Lorian tries to think, but comes up empty.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

“He spent the afternoon helping someone and their apprentice,” Jimmy says. “He told me the guy had some sort of voice power, something about emotional manipulation, when I saw him that night. He looked ready to collapse, I’ve never seen Arkarian like this, he _needs_ a break.”

Lorian agrees. He thinks back to the new apprentices he’s met recently, and he does remember Oliver, a sweet boy from Spain, barely a teenager. The kid was old enough to have trouble controlling his emotions, let alone anyone else’s. His trainer was experienced, as far as Lorian knows, but it wasn’t unheard of for people to call on Arkarian for help, especially those who had worked with him before. Still. Maybe he should intervene.

“I’ll talk to the Tribunal about this,” he reassures Jimmy, who nods, marginally satisfied. He’s still leafing through the report.

“It’s been a very strange week,” he sighs. “It feels like everyone has something in their minds, oh, what I wouldn’t give to read their thoughts from time to time.”

“Yeah?” Arkarian himself interrupts, almost jovially. He walks into the room, and manages a small smile for Jimmy, before dropping another report on the table before Lorian. “Isabel and Matt giving you trouble?” he asks, and tilts his head. “Is Coral alright?”

“Yeah, she’s alright. It’s Matt,” Jimmy rolls his eyes. “He won’t stop picking on Isabel, and she’s in the worst mood this week. I think Matt is really getting to her as of late, he’s been spying on her…”

“Her brother…” Lorian sighs, and the other two nod. Arkarian’s thoughts are carefully shielded, and Lorian wonders what’s on his mind. He sympathises with Jimmy, for once. “Does he suspect anything?” he asks anyway, trying to keep his own thoughts under control.

“Well, I’m fairly sure he knows Arkarian’s name at this point, even though he doesn’t know what it means, and he’s read the prophecy,” Jimmy says, which seems to startle Arkarian, but Lorian already knew this. He nods. 

“You said.”

“Other than that, he doesn’t suspect anything, that I know of,” he crosses his arms. “I’m more worried about Isabel than him, to be frank. I haven’t seen much of Ethan, but they both seem really quiet lately. Matt says so, too.”

“I’ll talk to them,” Arkarian sighs. “It’s probably because of their last mission.”

“Isabel said it went okay?” Jimmy frowns, and Arkarian shrugs.

“It went well, but they had a close call. It’s never nice to run into the Order, and she’s only been training for two weeks,” he says. Lorian desperately wishes that he would at least let him hear his thoughts, but they’re very deliberately closed. Arkarian doesn’t even look at him.

“Yeah… I hope she’s not too freaked out,” Jimmy sighs. “I can talk to her too, if you want. I’ll see her earlier, at any rate.”

“Let me know if you think I need to intervene, then,” Arkarian accepts.

They don’t talk more about her, but Arkarian’s demeanor changes noticeably. Or, at least, Lorian notices. He’s quieter, like he’s more tired all of a sudden. There’s a small frown to his features. He spaces out a bit, even. Jimmy either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t dwell on it, because Lorian can’t catch any thoughts from him either. He listens to the proposal Jimmy is detailing, something about the Citadel, but his heart’s not in it. 

At least Arkarian hadn’t really stopped talking to him, Lorian thinks, even if it’s taken him a week to go back to being able to look him in the eyes. But his thoughts are shielded, thoroughly, all the time. Lorian has made it clear many a time that he doesn’t like it when Arkarian hides things from him, and Arkarian rarely has done so before. It’s not only disconcerting, but almost infuriating, to suddenly have it change because of a woman. Not even a woman, he thinks with a hint of disdain. A mere girl.

The thought takes him by surprise. No. No, that’s not right. She’s a girl, alright, but she’s one of his Named, a valuable soldier, and an innocent human being who has done nothing to deserve Lorian’s ire. She’s not at fault for being Arkarian’s soulmate, someone had to be, and Lorian can’t change or meddle in that. No. It’s not her fault.

Arkarian will soon realize himself that he’s being overly dramatic, Lorian thinks. If anything, this reaffirms for him why it was so important that he gave up having a defined sex, gave up having certain emotions. Romance only complicates matters, really. 

Perhaps Jimmy is right, however. Arkarian needs a break, if not entirely, at least enough to have some time to himself at the end of the day. Lorian calls the Tribunal as he wraps up the meeting with Jimmy and Arkarian. He can’t help Arkarian until he himself decides what he wants to do about Isabel, but he can make sure he has time to think about it, if nothing else.

# #

"No... No, no, NO!"

Lorian roars, startling the circle, and no one quite dares ask why. He stands up, pacing, trying to reach Arkarian with his thoughts, but he fails to do so.

"He's gone... He's gone!" he all but moans, and leaves for his chambers, collapsing in an armchair and holding his head between his hands. He can't believe it. After years, _centuries_ , of caution...!

Arkarian barely ever goes on missions anymore. He's too valuable, and his eyes have morphed into ones that are very recognizable. It's too risky, and this is exactly why...!

Isabel startles awake in her room, and her own despair is palpable to Lorian, all the way back in Athens. He wishes he could comfort her, but he can’t. Some part of his mind, the part currently not busy having a meltdown, is forming a plan to get Arkarian back, and it courses with not telling Isabel about this...

A knock interrupts him, however. He opens the door with a hand gesture, and in comes Lady Arabella, closely followed by Lord Meridian. They must have heard.

"Here he is," she sighs, and Lorian finally understands that he's been here for longer than he had thought. Time is a funny concept the older he becomes, and he hopes he hasn't been there for over a day or two.

"Milady," he greets. "What time is it?"

"Oh, it's only been a few hours," she reassures him, already used to this question. Lord Meridian waits respectfully, but as soon as Lorian gestures for him to speak, he walks closer.

"My Lord, we must organize a rescue mission," he starts. "We've been informed of what's happening, some Named have already expressed their intentions of going for Arkarian, and there is not a single member of the Guard who wouldn't..."

"No," Lorian dismisses immediately. "No, thanks, Lord Meridian, but I have... different plans, right now. I won’t approve a rescue mission at this point."

Lady Arabella looks at him with a grimace.

"With all due respect, I didn't think you were that heartless. The boy has been nothing but adoring towards you, he has always shown you the utmost respect and..."

"I'm afraid, Milady, that I'm not at liberty to give you my reasons right now," he tries to placate her, but she only sounds mildly reassured.

"You better have good reasons, then, My Lord," Lord Meridian observes quietly. He's trying very hard not to raise his voice, and Lorian appreciates this deeply. "Because if you don't, you will soon be dealing with an uproar. Arkarian is, if nothing else, the most well liked Guard member we have across every House. He's collaborated with people in every other House, not just your own, and countless of them owe him their very lives. My own House would offer their very best to go on a rescue mission, he’s been an incommensurable help to us in the past… And, of course, if you think the Named will take his disappearance sitting down, you must have a very good reason to order it, because they won't otherwise."

"I don't think they will anyway. Not her, and certainly not the boy he raised," Lady Arabella adds, defiantly. She's not scared to show her disagreement, and while Lorian usually appreciates her honesty, he can't help but frown at them.

"I will give a statement when the Tribunal is ready. Summon the Named. They all need to know what's happening."

"There's a portal forming," another voice interrupts.

Queen Brystianne stands in the doorway, and all three of them freeze in their spots. Lord Meridian may or may not know for certain, but he has most likely heard that Queen Brystianne has always had a soft spot for Arkarian. Whether or not they had a more intimate relationship is something only Lady Arabella would know out of the three of them. Lorian has never needed to know, and he doesn't intend to change that, but the fact remains that he doesn't want to have Queen Brystianne against him. Thankfully, she lowers her head.

"I will not go against your word, My Lord, but I do implore you to reconsider a rescue party. And if not, at least send the best Named to this portal," she adds, undeterred, and they all wait for the explanation. She breathes before saying, "they're going to kill Arkarian on the date of his birth. They've managed to counter Dartemis' spell."

All eyes fix on Lorian upon hearing this, and for the second time that day Lorian lets out a wail that reverberates all the way to the Underworld. Somewhere, he's sure of that, his sister is laughing at him.

# #

The silence is so pervasive that Lorian can hear perfectly well when the door clicks shut, and her steps as she walks closer. She’s angry, he doesn’t think he’s seen her this agitated in a long time. Centuries, at the very least. When he turns around to face her fully, he feels a small pang of regret. She’s clearly been crying.

“You have to let them go,” Lady Arabella pleads.

Her voice is hoarse, as if she daren’t speak, but her gaze is fierce, and it reminds Lorian of a much distant past, when she was all but a child in comparison, and she’d defied him as well. The memory only makes him think of Isabel again, standing up to him and the Tribunal earlier, and he knows immediately that this time, it won’t be as easy as using his powers to end an argument. He sighs.

“Good evening, Bella,” he murmurs, offering her his arm. “Why don’t we walk?”

It’s most likely the use of the endearment that startles her, and she takes his arm on a defensive stance, but they both know well enough that Lorian doesn’t intend to lead her on. They’ve been through enough as is, the both of them.

“Lorian,” she finally says, acknowledging his will to be straightforward. They set out to roam the gardens.

“Surely you know I won’t let my own son rot in the Underworld, at the mercy of my sister,” he says. She regards him in silence for a few seconds.

“No. No, I do not know. You just told the Guard you wouldn’t allow a rescue mission. You told all of us not to help the kids. You’ve tried your best all of these years to put distance between you and your boy, failed miserably, I might add…”

“Indeed I have,” he can’t help but laugh, and she sighs, exasperatedly. “Failed, that is,” he clarifies.

“Yes. You have. Lorian, your child is in danger,” she pleads, quieter. He nods. “You want us to believe…” she starts, but with a shaky breath, she corrects herself. “You want me to believe in you. And the Lorian I once knew would have moved heaven and earth to go find him! But you…”

“I’ve changed,” he finishes for her. Her hand clutches his arm, the coolness of her skin almost managing to reach his, despite his tunic and cape. “I’m aware, Bella.”

“Then why?!”

“They’re children,” he sighs. “And even those who aren’t, might not be prepared for the Underworld. Surely you know how cruel it would be to send someone who lacks the resolve to complete their mission to that place. It feeds on your fears, Bella. They wouldn’t last long. And even if they did, my sister would kill them in an instant, unless they were ready to fight. And how would they? They’ve never confronted an immortal. So they should at least be ready to disobey _me_ first. I’m the least scary of the two, but I’m the authority they recognize.”

“You’re _testing them_ ,” she realizes.

“I am,” he admits.

They’ve stopped walking now, and she turns to look at him fully. Her hands are clasped on the fabric of his cape, and her eyes search his desperately, and he _feels_ it. He never truly stopped feeling it, that tug, that almost impossible pull of love. It’s subdued, he’d pushed any and all romantic feelings aside when he chose to be sexless. But love is… complicated. There are so many types, it’s hard to know where one ends and another begins. He’s not naive. He loves her, he’s loved her for centuries. But whether he loves her now as a fellow Tribunal member, as an esteemed friend, almost as family, or as a partner… Lorian can’t tell anymore. It feels oddly foreign, the concept of love. He wonders if he’ll ever have a chance to find his way back.

But she pulls away before he can ponder on that too much, a hint of tears in her eyes again.

“What will you have me do?” she whispers, and there’s a note of something in her voice that breaks his heart. He doesn’t know what it is. Resentment, perhaps. Disapproval. A hint of horror. Gods, if only he could wipe them away...

“Wait for them,” he replies, in the same tone. “If they come to you…”

“Lorian,” she laughs, tears spilling from her eyes and freezing on her eyelashes. Starlight reflects on them and they glitter when she next looks at him. “Lorian, they’re already here. They’re with Penbarin, haven’t you noticed?”

He hadn’t. He looks at her once more, something seizing his chest and impeding his breathing for a moment. He doesn’t know how to answer, he doesn’t have to anyway. She’s realized what he needs from her, and is looking at him with sorrow in her eyes. He wishes she would take his arm again, step in closer, but she doesn’t, and he knows he can’t ask that of her.

“Thank you,” is what he ends up saying. She raises her chin, defiant even now.

“Don’t misunderstand. I’m not doing this for you. I think this plan is cruel. Arkarian will hate you for the rest of his life if you choose to punish Isabel after she falls into your trap. She’s an incredible warrior, that one, and you won’t have my vote if you decide to put her on trial when they come back.”

“Of course,” he breathes. He wouldn’t have expected Arabella of all people to side with him on _that_.

“I’m not doing this for you,” she insists. “I’m doing this for Arkarian, who deserves none of your scheming, and for Isabel and Ethan, who deserve none of the pain you’re putting them through. She’s his soulmate, and Ethan…” just thinking about it chokes her up, and she withdraws even more into her own cloak. “You know the boy would die before letting anything happen to Arkarian…”

“That’s enough,” he says, but it’s not an order. He extends a hand towards her, a plea in his eyes. “Arabella, please.”

She doesn’t take his hand, but she sighs, and steps a little closer. With freezing fingertips, she tiptoes to caress his cheek, softly, only once.

“You think love will make you weak,” she muses. “I’ve told you a million times already how misguided that is, and yet here I am, telling you once more. If not for me, Lorian, do it for your child. Hiding from love, nay, hiding from _anything_ , is but a sign of weakness, regardless of what your sister sees it as.”

“Arabella…”

“Good night, Lorian.”

She uses her wings to go back to the palace, where, as he focuses his powers, he finally realizes Ethan and Isabel are roaming the corridors in search of help, and intercepts them. As she sets out to help them, Lorian takes a first step back to his own chambers. They’re not far, and he hasn’t the focus to use his wings right now. 

How could he believe her, he asks himself. How, if every time they get close, he feels this way? Sure, yet hesitant. Powerful, yet weak. Loved, yet lonely.

Lost… Yet found.

# #

He's safe.

He's safe, he's safe... he's...

"Arkarian, it's so good to see you're back," he says, and his voice trembles slightly with relief. 

Arkarian is there, looking at him. He's furious, but he's there. He looks pale, but otherwise healthy. There are no scars, no blemishes in his skin. His hair falls freely over his shoulders, still somewhat tangled, but otherwise unharmed, and it’s the only thing slightly out of place in his appearance. Lorian knows he’s used his wings to appear in the room, so his powers must have been restored back to normal. Lorian doesn’t think he should be impressed, Isabel had more than demonstrated the extent of her ability the previous year during the battle against Marduke, but seeing Arkarian like this now… He takes a deep breath.

“I thought…”

"You mustn't punish Isabel," Arkarian interrupts him, and it throws Lorian off for a moment. "Isabel, she... you can't..."

"My decision about Isabel will not be changed," Lorian says.

He doesn't dare tell him why yet. He would tell everyone, and he _is_ making a point with this. Arkarian stares at him, anguished, and for a fleeting moment his determination wavers, but then Arkarian changes the subject.

“Lathenia doesn’t have the key.”

Among the happiness and the relief of seeing him alive, Lorian has to admit these aren’t encouraging news. If his sister decided to inspect the ruins of that temple…

Lorian's blood freezes in his veins, however, when Arkarian asks his next question. It’s not like he hadn’t expected it. It has come down to this, hasn’t it? 

Then again, it's the right time, Lorian thinks, relaxing visibly. The worst has _already_ happened, after all.

"I am your father, Arkarian," he says simply, arching his eyebrows.

Arkarian nods, both surprised and not at the same time. He only has time to give that some thought for a second, as he explains, before Arkarian realizes why Lorian had given him the gift of agelessness. It's a testament to how long they've known each other that his immediate request still manages to surprise Lorian, yet he also knows it's been a long time coming.

Arkarian looks absolutely anguished by the time he finishes his sentence, yet again denying him his wish, but he doesn't stop Lorian from placing a hand over his shoulder comfortingly.

"Please understand," he says, aware that he's making himself look even worse, but still willing to sacrifice it for the lesson he wants to impart. Leadership is about what you're able to sacrifice, sometimes, he can't help but think bitterly when Arkarian's eyes widen, something akin to hatred in them, and he shoves him away, turns around without an answer, and storms out of the room.

For a moment, Lorian wonders if now that Arkarian knows they’re family, it changes anything. He’d always thought it might, but now that he considers Arkarian’s retreating form, too distraught to use his wings, Lorian realizes that it doesn’t, not really. Arkarian had always looked up to him, and Lorian… Lorian had always disappointed; at least, in the things that truly mattered. 

Well. That was going to have to change. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed my story :D
> 
> If you did, please consider leaving kudos or a comment, they're greatly appreciated!
> 
> If you’d like to create related content based on my fic, please visit my profile for my blanket permission statement!
> 
> If you want to yell with me and share more headcanons for these dorks, you can find me at my tumblr, [kyokotsukuyomi](http://kyokotsukuyomi.tumblr.com/), the comments section down below, or any of the links in my profile. Don't be shy!
> 
> Love,
> 
> ~Lena


	4. - NAMED -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn't mean to spy, really, he just stumbles upon it by accident. Few things are accidental in Lorian's life, and he curses his luck when this happens to be one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm the one who made this into only four chapters when I could have given you all the scenes separately instead, but I do wish it was even longer XDD
> 
> In any case, yes! We've reached the end! I hope you've enjoyed this story so far, and if so, please let me know the parts you've liked the most! I'm always open to talking about these guys, Guardians of Time was my first fandom, my home fandom, and has a very special place in my heart.
> 
> Love
> 
> ~Lena

# Chapter 4 - A Named

He doesn't mean to spy, really, he just stumbles upon it by accident. Few things are accidental in Lorian's life, and he curses his luck when this happens to be one.

Arkarian may often look calm on the outside when he isn’t, but this time there isn’t even that pretense. His thoughts are a mess, and the simple fact that Lorian can hear them is significant. He’s been shielding them since he came back, especially after their brief meeting moments ago. He's all but hiding, leaning against the wall of one of the corridors that lead to the circular room. He's breathing slowly, in a show of self-control that behooves him, as Lorian can clearly tell he's trying to stop tears from falling from his eyes. He keeps rubbing at his face with his sleeve.

Ethan appears, looking for him, but Arkarian isn’t in any condition to reassure him. Ethan falters at first, but almost immediately draws his Instructor closer, arms folding around him, murmuring something to him that’s clearly meant to cheer him up. It doesn’t seem to help much, but Arkarian’s fingers cling to Ethan’s shirt, in an effort to calm himself down. They haven’t seen him, and Lorian doesn’t dare move.

Ethan is clearly awkward, but Lorian is surprised to notice that he opens his thoughts purposefully, organizing his ideas far more clearly than he normally does. He’s talking to Arkarian, telling him how Isabel’s abilities have improved during their trip on the Underworld. Lorian doesn’t know what to think when Ethan assures Arkarian that the Tribunal ought to keep her alive, if anything, just because she’s too valuable. He’s right, even if that’s not the only reason. Ethan Roberts knows them too well, perhaps. Lorian settles on amusement. 

It takes him a few moments, but Arkarian eventually starts breathing normally again. It’s not long after that Matt steps in their direction, calling their names. They hear him, and Arkarian lets go of Ethan at the sound of footsteps, but more importantly, Matt sees Lorian in the shadows, and he walks closer too. His intention had never been to spy in the first place, but Ethan’s eyes narrow, and his thoughts are still pointed, and angry.

Before he even forms the full thought, he turns to step between them, shielding his instructor from the Immortal. It’s a move that surprises Lorian, but also Arkarian, who didn’t seem to see it coming either, and watches with wide eyes the exchange that follows.

"Ethan," Lorian starts, but the boy's expression hardens. 

"With all due respect, sir, save it. Come on, Arkarian, let's get out of here."

He holds eye contact for the briefest of moments, before turning his back to Lorian, pulling on Arkarian’s arm to tug him along with him through the corridor. Matt, though he hesitates briefly, follows them. It alarms Lorian at first, to know that one of his best men would choose to openly defy him like this, but the thought doesn’t linger for long. It’s widely known how loyal Ethan is to Arkarian in particular, and he still thinks Lorian ordered them to abandon him.

That’s when Lorian realizes. Ethan must know. He doesn't need to read Ethan's thoughts, they're just as unruly as Arkarian's, both full of panic, fear, sadness, even hatred. Ethan knows, not just about Isabel being Arkarian’s soulmate, but also about Arkarian being his son, and about him wanting to give up his ability, and...

"It's going to be alright," Ethan is saying to Arkarian, soothingly. "I know it. Has my Intuition failed me yet? Come on, let's get to our seats. This will be over in no time," he continues, and Lorian watches him very gently steer Arkarian to the circular room.

It's there, all over his words, and his eyes, and his entire demeanor, just how much Ethan loves Arkarian. How well they know each other, how much Ethan realizes the pain Arkarian is in right now. The boy may only be seventeen, Lorian thinks as he walks to his own seat, but he understands human love in a way that Lorian does his best to ignore. It's such a small thing, he thinks, and yet that makes him infinitely better at comforting Arkarian in this moment than his own father. Ironic, really.

But it's okay, he tells himself. This will be over in no time.

He probes her mind gently before he steps into the circle, and she's of course scared. She's sad, too, and he reads thoughts about Arkarian. Not seeing him again... Or even worse, she thinks, being able to see him and not being able to be with him. Love is such an important thing to them all, he realizes all over again, in their thoughts.

Matt and Ethan are with Arkarian, Ethan still trying to keep him calm. He's at least breathing normally, though Lorian suspects he's only doing it to keep up appearances. He's unnaturally pale, and while some would think it's because of the nightmare he'd just been pulled from, he knows better.

All of the Tribunal members are sending thoughts to Arkarian of support, who smiles, occasionally sending one back. Lady Arabella's thoughts are carefully shielded when she leaves her place in the circle to go hug Arkarian as well. He manages a chuckle for her, and Lorian is grateful. She's been worried, he knows she has. Not that she's been hiding it from him, but her open disagreement with his plan had put a bit of a wedge between them. It doesn't worry Lorian, he knows she wouldn't betray the Guard, nor him. But Arkarian is a different matter altogether, and his question from earlier is only one more indicator that he might be prepared to leave his side if he considers it necessary. 

Matt's thoughts shine like a beacon to Lorian, for obvious reasons. Obvious to him, that is. It's early to reveal Matt's role, but that doesn't take away from his nature. His powers lay dormant within him, and his thoughts are all that much clearer to Lorian than anyone else's, an imperceptible difference to other Truthseers. He's worried sick about his sister, and if he didn't already have mixed feelings about the Guard, about Arkarian, about Lorian himself... then this would have been enough for him anyway.

It's a dangerous line to be threading, Lorian knows. Arkarian is probably the most well-loved person in the entire Guard, and Ethan is also more popular than he thinks. He's been in the Guard for longer than most people have at his age, and while he hasn't exactly been able to make a lot of friends, he is well-known amongst the Houses. The Tribunal have certainly seen enough of him, considering he used to trail Arkarian wherever he went for a while, as a kid. And of course, there's Matt. No one from the tribunal would hesitate to follow him, even before Matt himself knows why, and it's certainly a point to consider.

The Tribunal members are too focused on Arkarian’s wellbeing for now, and he can’t read anything about Matt. That’s good, he thinks, as he’s not the main concern today. What’s not so good is the worry he reads in their thoughts. Arkarian’s façade is good, perfect in most days, but it’s not enough to fool those who have known him the longest. Half the Tribunal is looking at him, the other half just as concerned about potentially losing a Named and looking at Isabel. She’s not returning their glances, instead looking at her feet, waiting for her sentence. Everyone seems to think the worst is about to happen, much like a year ago Ethan had stood where she is now, and thought he was about to have his memories erased, or worse, be killed. Lorian doesn’t like to think of himself as a murderer, but he’s aware of his own reputation, of the sacrifices he’s made before. He’s forgiven people just as much as he’s punished, and he’s done his best to keep his impartiality. 

But it doesn't _matter_ , Lorian reminds himself, thinking of Ethan's words. It will be over in no time.

He enters the room, and raises his hands to start the procedures as Isabel straightens in her chair. She does her best to meet his eyes when he insists, and raises her chin in tired defiance, admitting she wouldn’t hesitate to do this all over again. He smiles. What he's about to offer her has the potential to change her life in an entirely new path she had never considered. He hopes he has been right about her.

# #

Lorian is tired.

He sleeps, of course, if not very often. He's used to staying awake for very long periods of time, but he hasn't slept since Arkarian disappeared, and now after giving an ability like agelessness, it's even harder to stay awake. His duties aren't finished, though.

He's been meditating, but really, he's waiting. He's too distracted to fully meditate, let alone sleep.

Arkarian doesn't make him wait for long. He appears in the room, quiet as a mouse, and meets Lorian's eyes when they open to see him. He’s still wearing his tunic, but his hair is now tied back with a hair tie, curiously enough. 

"Arkarian," Lorian starts, and he realizes he still doesn't know what to say. His throat feels strangely tight, and he's not sure why.

"Lorian," Arkarian says back. He sounds just as tired as Lorian feels. "I'm back."

"Yes. You are. Welcome back, Arkarian."

"Thank you."

There's a short silence, but Arkarian soon sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, not defensively but defeated.

"I don't know how to feel about many things," he admits, and Lorian nods, waiting. "You ordered everyone to let me die," he says, and it sounds rather more vulnerable than he likely meant it to sound. Lorian closes his eyes once more.

"I did."

"I understood that," Arkarian reassures him. "I'm just one soldier, and you have the entire Guard to look out for. I understood, but then, why did you let them come save me?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Arkarian, you're not just one soldier. You're my son."

Lorian doesn't mean to snap. He hasn't even raised his voice, really. Yet Arkarian frowns as if he has, and then sighs.

"Yeah. I mean, I also don't know how to feel about that."

"... That's understandable," Lorian concedes.

"You could have said something, it's been centuries that I've been with you."

"You wouldn't have welcomed a missing parent easily, way back when, and besides, the only reason I've told you now is because the worst has already happened, and believe me, I would have sacrificed _anything_ to prevent that."

"Even telling me about my own father?"

"Even that," Lorian agrees, and Arkarian presses his lips together, visibly forcing himself not to argue. Lorian can take it if he's angry, but he's always hated it when Arkarian keeps things from him. Arkarian most likely knows this.

"Lathenia must have known, she was having a laugh at me. _They_ all know, probably," he ends up saying anyway. "How come _I_ didn't?"

"They don't know, Arkarian. They wanted you because you're the best soldier we have, not because you're my son. Had I not concealed this fact, they would have schemed to find you way sooner, believe me. My sister is not one to overlook a weakness, and I didn't want her to use you against me."

Arkarian takes a second to digest this information.

"So when she asked me who my father was, are you telling me not even your _sister_ knows about me?" he says. He likely already knows this is so, but Lorian nods anyway.

"Exactly. And since I hadn't told you, what did you answer?" he asks, making Arkarian blink in confusion.

"I told her I didn't know," he admits, and then shudders. Lorian doesn't need to read his thoughts to realize this had taken place during his torture. He wishes he could pull Arkarian closer, but he isn't finished asking questions, and probably wouldn't want him to anyway. "Is there anyone else who knows?"

"The Tribunal knows. And the person who concealed the sliver of time when you were conceived, knows, of course. No one else."

"Do the Named know?"

"No, they don't, but I don't see why they shouldn't. They're in just as much danger as you regardless, seeing as how half of their identities are known to the Order already. Your security needs to be stronger than ever, all of you. We'll work through that as soon as things have calmed down with the other Named," he adds, and Arkarian nods.

"Okay, that's all... fine. That's fine, I guess I can see the point of not telling me I had a father after me repeatedly telling you I wish I had had one, sure." Arkarian is leaning a bit more towards sarcasm than usual, but Lorian merely smiles sadly at him.

"Trust me, for someone who has revoked even having a defined sex in favor of being neutral, I've never been able to stay truly impartial to you, Arkarian. You know this, how many times have you been told that you're my favorite? There was a time when this even flustered you. Surely you knew I was more than partial to your wellbeing?"

"Yeah, fine," he mutters. "Fine."

"I wish I could have told you earlier, of course," Lorian continues when Arkarian doesn't seem to have anything to say. "There have been many moments in which I almost did, or when it would have been appropriate to do so, and I couldn't, and it pained me to hide it from you, but it was to protect you. Especially when you were only an apprentice, and more vulnerable."

"I understand," Arkarian says, with an air of finality, tired. Lorian knows the conversation isn't over, but maybe he'd just rather have it some other time. He doesn't mind. If nothing else, they have time ahead of them.

"Do you understand now why I took you as my apprentice?" he asks instead, with a note of humor, and Arkarian smiles. It's small, tired, but there's a hint of complicity in his eyes when he looks up.

"Yeah," he answers simply. It's a question he's asked many times, but now... "Parents usually get to train their children, if they're both in the Guard. I get it now."

"Indeed. Not only that, no one else would have been able to teach you to use your more… unusual abilities," he adds. Arkarian tilts his head. “Elemental manipulation is extremely rare to begin with, but yours obliterates the scope of what most Guardians have managed to do before. Not to mention being able to resist the power of an Immortal, moreover, using to your advantage. The ability to open portals is yet another thing you wouldn’t be able to train with someone else.”

“Will you teach me to do that, now that I know I’m… able to?”

“Yes, of course I will.”

“You’ve always been reluctant to teach me about those things,” Arkarian points out. “Why?”

“It might have given it away,” Lorian sighs, and Arkarian nods. “In any case, even if your abilities hadn’t been influenced by being half immortal, I wouldn’t have given you an Instructor that wouldn’t be able to stay with you for as long as you needed. I knew the ability I was giving you would set you apart… and I’m sorry,” he adds, quietly. Arkarian considers it, sighs heavily, before shaking his head.

"I also turned out to be a very slow student, so..." he shrugs, taking down his ponytail to run his fingers through his hair. He pushes it behind his ears as he speaks. "So," he clears his throat, some color seeping into his cheeks as if his words have reminded him of something.

"So?"

"I... suppose I ought to thank you properly, for..." he gestures, turning a little more red, and Lorian smiles, understanding.

"For being a bastard with a point to make?" he finishes, repeating a thought he'd picked up from Ethan's mind before, during Isabel's trial. Arkarian laughs loudly at that, obviously having heard him as well.

"Yes," he answers, emphatically, but then he shakes his head. "That. But I was going to say thank you for giving Isabel the same gift as me, rather. So. Thank you," he says, rather solemnly for the levity of the moment. He lowers his head a little, and Lorian smiles.

"You know you don't have to do that, right?"

"Habit," Arkarian murmurs, amusedly, crossing his arms again.

"You haven't had to do that, ever. I've never asked it of you."

"Still."

"Well, what do you want me to say? It was only natural. I couldn’t let you waste the gift I once gave you, and why wouldn’t I give her the same? She’s more than proved she deserves it, don’t you think?"

“Not _waste_ ,” Arkarian corrects immediately, but he lets it slide, adding, “But you’re right. She deserves it. I wasn’t lying earlier, her healing abilities are also unparalleled. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Marduke do anything like that. Not to mention her recently developed visions. A force of nature, as Ethan sometimes puts it...”

“A good thing, then, you can manipulate the elements?” Lorian jokes. Arkarian rolls his eyes.

"There’s no one in this universe who can truly stop her, I don’t think. You tried, and look how that went,” he adds. Lorian chuckles. “I imagine she will have a lot of questions," Arkarian adds, shaking his head, and Lorian is unable to decide whether or not he considers this a good thing.

"I imagine. Especially considering you haven't told her yet, have you?"

"That we're soulmates? No, of course not. It would have only made it harder to let it go eventually, for both of us. No need to drag her into that if..." he winces.

"If she wasn't going to be able to live as long as you?"

"Yeah," Arkarian pushes his hair back a second time, and sighs. "How does one tell people about this, anyway? Ugh," he sighs again, and Lorian finally starts to understand what he means by 'questions'.

"She's a bright one, Isabel Becket," he murmurs. "She _will_ have questions."

"So many of them. I have a long past for her to poke around into," Arkarian says, but he's joking this time. "I just don't want to scare her, and the whole idea behind us being soulmates is that she's died before. I don't know that she will want to know that, and yet..."

"And yet, I don't think it's the best idea to lie to her."

Arkarian snorts.

"As if that was possible," he sighs. "She would notice, and honestly, I don't want to."

"Aww," Lorian makes fun of him gently, and Arkarian rolls his eyes.

"I'm still trying to decide if I forgive you for being a bastard with a point, you know," he threatens, smiling to himself. Lorian doesn't push his luck, just in case.

"If you want my opinion," he starts, and Arkarian shrugs, and nods. An invitation. Lorian takes it. "I think Isabel deserves to know, as soon as you're comfortable telling her. If nothing else, she's the reason you're here now. You didn't literally die, but I think keeping each other alive is something you can bond over," he adds, and Arkarian nods.

"What a story..."

"Well, some people meet at a bar, or on the street, or are classmates. You happen to have a rather more interesting version of how you met your soulmate," Lorian shrugs. "Textbook love story, if you ask me, but..."

"But I didn't ask you about _that_ ," he finishes, blushing once more. Lorian thinks it's quite funny, but he doesn't voice this. Arkarian doesn't usually confide in him for this kind of topic, after all.

"In any case, if you get a chance, do ask them about the details of their journey, will you?" he changes the topic, and watches Arkarian closely. He takes a second to return to the conversation, making Lorian suppress yet another smile, but eventually frowns in confusion.

"Do you think they could have found something important?"

"Well, we know where the key is now, but their route might prove useful if they can remember it, and if they met any dangers..."

"Got it. I will ask about it, but not right away, I don't think. We all should take a moment to... well, rest. And I also hope they're not too freaked out. I haven't seen it all, but I've been told tales of what goes on in there, and it doesn't sound pleasant."

"Let me know as soon as you're ready," Lorian says, sensing the moment dissolve slowly. Arkarian smiles.

"I will."

"Before you go..." he hesitates, not for the first time, but he hopes it’s for the last. He’s spent enough time holding back from him. Arkarian arches an eyebrow, waiting. "It's... it's really good to see you back, Arkarian. I've..."

"Missed me, have you?" Arkarian laughs gently. "What would you do without me..."

"I've been so scared," Lorian finishes, and Arkarian tilts his head, still smiling a little. "I thought I'd never see you again, and..."

"I know. I've been afraid too," he says.

Lorian isn't expecting him to, and hasn't even considered it, not until Arkarian steps closer to put a hand on his arm, tentatively.

"I'm home, father," he says, honestly taking Lorian by surprise. So much so, that he isn't able to reply right away, except by pulling Arkarian closer into a hug.

"Welcome home, my son."

The embrace lasts only for a few moments. Soon enough, a distressed voice calls for Arkarian, and he pulls away to go. He still offers another smile for Lorian, before disappearing. Lorian returns it.

His son has returned home.

# #

"I've told you many times, you need to be more careful! What would Ekaterina say, watching you debauch her favorite element like that?" Lorian tuts, and Arkarian rolls his eyes so hard it must have hurt him, before turning around to look at him. Isabel, a few feet away, giggles quietly to herself.

"Can't one show off in peace?" Arkarian replies, setting his hands on his hips. "What's the excuse now, are we _still_ short on healers?" he asks, sardonic, making Isabel laugh some more. Lorian smiles indulgently.

"Yes, well, we _are_. Healing is such a rare ability, it's no wonder you two are made for each other," Arkarian rolls his eyes again, but this time he's blushing slightly, and Lorian can't help but smile some more. "But do honor Ekaterina's memory, will you? She always told you to be delicate about your power, didn't she?"

"You say that as though you talked to her about it at all," Arkarian tuts back at him. "I was the one who had to listen to her day in and day out about how simply wielding the power wasn't the important part."

"Well, act like it. Plus, I've seen you do such beautiful shapes, and I think I heard you say you were trying to show off?" Lorian suggests innocently. Arkarian sticks his tongue out at him, childishly, refreshingly. Lorian laughs. "I thought so. Go on, then."

"Yes, right, do you _mind_?"

Lorian doesn't answer. Instead, he walks towards Isabel. She doesn't recoil, but she observes him closely, uncertain. He's not there to make her uncomfortable. With a smile and a nod towards her, he returns his gaze to his son. She doesn’t, at first, curiously peeking at him while she thinks he can’t see her. He doesn’t have to. He feels her gaze. Her tunic has changed since they last saw each other, acknowledging her as a Guardian, not an apprentice anymore, and she seems comfortable in the loose clothing, her hair secured at her nape. After a moment, however, she returns her eyes to Arkarian, who has walked a few meters away, and looks ready to begin.

"Go on, Arkarian. Slow and delicate," he instructs. Arkarian doesn't give any hint that he's heard him, but Lorian knows he has. He trained the boy for upwards of two centuries, and that must count for something.

Arkarian does listen. He grumbles about it first, so quiet Isabel can't catch it, but Lorian isn't bothered by matters like sound traveling, and hears it anyway. It makes him smile, and she wonders briefly why, which only amuses him more.

"Is he always like this with you younger people?" Lorian asks her eventually, after watching Arkarian showcase his ability for them for a few minutes. She seems startled, but her voice isn't timid when she answers.

"No, not at all. I've had to insist for like a week to get him to show me more of his powers. I don't think he's being shy, just extremely humble about them, I mean..." she gestures towards Arkarian, who is painstakingly constructing a gleaming array of star-shaped fires to imitate constellations around himself. "That's incredibly impressive, not to mention useful in battle."

"It is," Lorian agrees, and Isabel chuckles.

"Good to know someone else agrees. I’ve seen him fight before, I’ve been asking him about it ever since. Arkarian likes to avoid the topic, I think he just doesn't like to be the center of attention..."

"You might be onto something," Lorian sighs. "It's difficult to be the center of attention when you don't want people to really notice you that much, I've heard him complain about it before."

"Ah, so that's it," she sighs as well. "I think I shouldn't be surprised. He does a lot of things to make sure people don't get attached to him, doesn't he?"

"And I'm sure it didn't work as intended with you, Isabel," Lorian laughs, and she reddens, puffing her cheeks a little in protest.

"Well, clearly, but that's not what I meant."

"I know,” he placates her. “I've seen him through it. He wasn't always like that, but at some point I guess he decided to shut himself off a bit more."

"It's not... he's not entirely shut off, but maybe Ethan and I are just an exception..."

"Ethan Roberts..."

Lorian resents the thought, briefly, knowing the pain Ethan's eventual passing will bring to both Arkarian and Isabel. Matt, too, but for now it's early to say what he will be like as he comes more into his true nature, and Isabel doesn't know yet, so he doesn't say anything. She seems intrigued by his silence anyway.

"I will miss him," she admits freely, her eyes trained on her soulmate as he finishes yet another fiery constellation, making them move to his will. Lorian lets her get it off her chest. "I know Arkarian will too. They are very close, aren't they?"

"You should have seen them when Ethan was younger," Lorian offers in return, and it makes her breath hitch with the thought. "I think it took Arkarian a little while to notice, but they became best friends almost immediately. It was almost a little painful to watch, but I'm sure he's come to terms with it by now..."

"It doesn't mean it won't hurt, though," she observes quietly, and Lorian smiles. He likes her.

"Indeed."

They watch in silence for a little longer as Arkarian makes fire dance around, catch onto branches and flowers he makes bloom, stay put under his command. He walks around, wind blowing his hair away from his face as he works, reorganizing the landscape around himself with deep focus. Water bends to his will as he creates a small but artistic fountain, rocks piling together, abandoning their shape to obey him. His own tunic swishes as wind picks up around him, tangling in his hair, and braiding it for him when he gets tired of it. Eventually, he stops and comes back to meet them where they've been watching him from. His cheeks redden slightly as he gets closer, even before either of them speaks.

"That was impressive," Lorian says, saving them the trouble of having to start the conversation. Independently, both seem equally as relieved, which amuses him greatly. "You truly have gotten your ability under control, Arkarian. Ekaterina would be proud." Arkarian lowers his head at the idea.

"I like to think so," he muses. "It's been a long time since then, but I'd like to think she's kept an eye out for me."

"She... helped you train?" Isabel asks, tentatively, trying to guess. Arkarian shrugs, tilting his head to one side, then the other.

"Hmmm... I guess you could put it like that, but not really. I just listened to her babble about her relationship with her own ability, and took ideas from there. Most if not all of my training has always been supervised by Lorian, still to this day," he says, and Lorian is impressed.

"You told her about that."

"Why wouldn't I?" it makes Arkarian laugh. "It's not a secret."

"You used to complain a lot."

"Yes, because it's a bit embarrassing," he admits. "How many people do you know who were apprentices for two hundred years? I mean, she was an apprentice for two _weeks_ ," he says, pointing at Isabel with an open hand. Lorian laughs.

"Then you two balance each other out. Two weeks is excessively short, and two hundred is excessively long for any normal mortal, I'll agree."

"Two hundred is not excessive, it's just impossible for a mortal," Isabel settles, amused. "Besides, to completely master an ability like yours, I'm not surprised it took time, Arkarian. It's extremely impressive, and so..." she gestures, vaguely. "It's such an open concept, elemental manipulation. I think it's incredible."

"It's rare," he admits. "I have only ever met two people with it aside from myself. One is Ekaterina, a lady I met when she was already in her seventies and had been long retired from the Guard... and the other was a younger trainee who sadly wasn't able to cope with his powers and went insane," Arkarian shakes his head, sadly. "It wasn't pretty."

"That can happen?" she asks, half way between horrified and morbidly curious. He chuckles.

"It's not often at all, but with people who are overly religious, or sometimes already mentally unstable, then yes, it could happen. Before you master them, abilities are very hard to keep under control if your emotions are running rampant."

It's endearing, listening to them talk. Isabel listens to him intently, an avid learner, but there's also a difference in the way he talks to her compared to other people. Softer, less about the words and more about indulging her curiosity. It makes Lorian think he would tell Isabel virtually anything, and it makes him wonder if she knows about their soulbond already. He lets Arkarian hear that particular thought, and he blinks in surprise, then finishes a sentence for Isabel, and turns to him.

"Yes, Isabel knows," he says, gently. "I told her a few weeks ago, she asked."

"Good," Lorian approves. "It's not often that people know they have found their soulmates. You two are very lucky."

"I could have done without the part where she died," Arkarian states blankly, and she snorts. Lorian smiles, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"No pain, no gain, as the mortals say, no?" he offers, and Isabel laughs this time.

"Oh, that's the weirdest context to use that idiom in," she chuckles, and it makes Arkarian laugh too.

"I'm glad that's in the past," he settles, and she huffs in agreement.

"Mood," she shrugs. "And the same goes for you. Kindly never get kidnapped like that ever again, if you please," she murmurs, a bit sarcastic, a bit amused, a fair bit serious. Arkarian squeezes her hand softly, and pulls her closer to place a kiss on her temple.

"I'll try my best."

Lorian smiles.

This hurts, much like Ethan and Arkarian's relationship, in a way he didn't expect. He realizes he's gotten used to being one of the few constants in Arkarian's life, and now he has to share. As Isabel turns her head to press a kiss on Arkarian’s cheek, however, Lorian can't help but think that he is happy as well. He places a hand on Arkarian's shoulder when he sees him tense defensively under his watching eyes.

"I like her," he tells him, startling them both so much he can literally _hear_ the silence when their hearts skip a beat. "I couldn't have imagined a better soulmate for you, son, I'm sure you two will be very happy together."

He doesn't want to bother them, he decides, when neither of them seem to know what to answer. He smiles, and turns to leave. Isabel's thoughts are a mess, though definitely flattered. Arkarian's are... blank, he finds, but he soon figures out how he’s feeling about it, when Lorian has already walked away. He doesn't offer words, but he's thankful, and he's flustered, and he's so incredibly in love with her already, Lorian realizes. Perhaps most importantly, he is happy.

That's all Lorian has ever wanted for him. He leaves them together without looking back. He's happy too.

He's gained a daughter.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed my story :D
> 
> If you did, please consider leaving kudos or a comment, they're greatly appreciated!
> 
> If you’d like to create related content based on my fic, please visit my profile for my blanket permission statement!
> 
> If you want to yell with me and share more headcanons for these dorks, you can find me at my tumblr, [kyokotsukuyomi](http://kyokotsukuyomi.tumblr.com/), the comments section down below, or any of the links in my profile. Don't be shy!
> 
> Love,
> 
> ~Lena


End file.
